#( asks ) — the phoenix answers what the stars inquire .

[fushichoumomo-arch]

🕯️

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 ; 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 , 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 .

❝ … Quilge Opie … My capturer . My warden . My tormentor . When Irys Gryf clipped my wings … he had not been far behind ; he knew that without my wings … without my BANKAI … I was at my weakest . I was prey , ready to be killed . ------- And yet … he didn't . He brought me back to this place , to … yes , Silbern , as I heard it's called . But it was not out of kindness , that he'd let me live ; with time , I came to grasp the true purpose behind that decision -------- Lord Aizen . Sōsuke . For Quilge Opie and the Quincy King to speak of him so openly can only mean one thing … he is still alive . …… Hehehehe … Hahahahaha … HAHAHAHAHA … !!! 

      …      I heard what they call him ; Special War Potential …………... FOOLS . Quilge Opie and that Yhwach sure talk a big game , as if they truly have the world's best interests at heart … but when it really matters , they capture ANY poor soul they can get their grubby hands on , torturing them , using them as BARGAINING CHIPS devoid of dignity . -----------  And now ; they've grown arrogant enough to think they can put Aizen Sōsuke on a leash . ---------- Regrettably for you, Quilge Opie … you've bitten off more than you can chew . Sōsuke is NOT one to be controlled , nor am I to be used as a bargaining chip in exchange for his allegiance to your “cause” .  Your Lieutenant may have clipped my wings … but a phoenix without wings is still a phoenix . 

     ...      When my time comes ------- and it will come , be assured of that ------ the flames that I wield will not be kind to your ilk . ❞

[wynilthyrii]

A letter to Zanrethan Sunforge, August 4

The letter bears the seal of Lady Ilthyrii—the dagger-and-stars House Ilthyrii arms crossed with the phoenix crest of the Order—pressed in dark gray sealing wax. In neat, familiar handwriting on the front, it is addressed to Zanrethan Sunforge of the Order. The missive is written on good parchment in dark gray ink, bearing the scent of coffee, incense, and smoke.

Zan,

I’ve thought hard before beginning this letter, started and restarted it half a dozen times in the past few days—because it has only been in the past few days that I’ve decided to write it at all. I’ve not told anyone about running into you as it occurred to me that perhaps you didn’t want anyone to know. You didn’t say and I didn’t ask and that was a failing on my part, truth be told. In some ways, I suppose my thoughts were elsewhere.

As long ago as it was, I still remember the morning after we thought you lost. I went to the war room office and spread a black cloth over your desk. What I don’t remember is how long it stayed there, how long it was before we finally cleared it all, filed some things and packed the rest away. Every so often these days when I’m going through the oldest files and reports, I still find things in your handwriting. The ache eased some time ago but every so often, there’s been the pang, the regret. I suppose it will be even less, now, since I know you did survive to live in a world where that fight has ended, despite how many years you lost somewhere in between.

You should know that the files are all classified, now, though I doubt you’ve gone looking—why reopen a wound like that, after all? I haven’t inquired about the classification level though from what I understand, having talked to some others, the level is somewhere like “five meters above your ass”—and that came from a retired combat commander turned archivist with the Order. I don’t even know that I could access them, and many of the last reports, about the very ending of the Neverdark War—that’s what we’ve called it these past few years, now, since the final stages and the end of it—were in my hand. So many that you knew fell away or simply fell, never making it to the end.

We’re seated in the Everlight, now, those remnants of forces that made it to the end. Arius stepped down as Dragonhawk in favor of athair some time ago, and while about half the Council would prefer to not answer to Drimmari Dra’zar as their lord, they can’t deny the strength of his claim to the title. Still, I wonder how long he’ll remain in that position. For my part, I suspect that he’ll return the mantle to Arius at some point, possibly in the relatively near future, though I can’t be certain. The quiet speculation about who he’ll name his heir when it comes to the Dragonhawk Seat is a minor sport, I think, among the Houses of the Everlight and its people alike.

I know both far too much and not enough about the Everlight these days myself—keeping that promise I made to Fleur all those years ago, the one I made again to Arius is part of it, though it’s more now than I think I ever intended. Today as I sat at my desk in the war room at Dawn’s Reach, staring at the board of all the mysteries we’re trying to solve, all the problems we’re sorting through, all the information and we’ve gathered about a thousand things, I wondered.

Wondered, if you hadn’t been taken, would I be in that chair? Would I be his general now, commanding the Everlight’s forces?

Of course, I suppose it doesn’t matter, but it’s one of those things that strikes. It certainly doesn’t stop me from taking risks or making mistakes. I’m currently under orders from Tyr not to swing a blade for the next three days unless it’s a matter of life and death—he doesn’t want to have to do any additional healing for my collarbone and decided for once on the luxury of letting it heal a little more slowly, with more natural healing than the alternative.

There’s always a new mystery to unravel, isn’t there? Always a new challenge. Perhaps someday I’ll tell you more, if you’d like to know. If I’m able.

I’ve not even told my husband about running into you. He might have been distracted enough not to notice but I know better than to count on that. Odds are that he knows something happened, just not what. Someday I’ll tell you more about that, too.

I meant what I said about not being afraid. If you love her as it seems you do, and she loves you the same, then take the chance. She’ll think it’s perfect, no matter what you do.

Be well, my friend. My brother. Wyn.

[Addressed to: @zanrethan-sunforge ]

[phoenixresistance]

The Phoenix Resistance - Chapter 7: Phoenix In The Night

London Alley - September 14th, 11:59 AM

A piece of parchment fluttered down a cobblestone street as a gust of cool September wind howled, dried leaves and garbage joining it in its dance. Suddenly, it came to a halt as it collided with the legs of a man.

Bending down, the man grabbed the somewhat torn and muddy paper. Bringing it up to his face, curious of what could be written on it, his eyes were met with blank paper.

“Huh.” The man sighed. “Damn people and their littering!” He decided as he crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it into the nearest rubbish bin before continuing on his way.

At that exact moment, far away Big Ben chimed to signify the new hour and the ball of parchment burst into flames, smoldering until the only thing left was a pile of ash.

Lone Star Tavern, London - September 15th, 12 AM

The bells of Big Ben rang out as a group of hooded shadowy figures exited the cellar door into the alleyway behind the tavern. A few of the figures suddenly vanished with a quiet popping noise while some others left the alley on foot and disappeared into the shadows of the streets of London.

One figure lingered by the door, watching and waiting for his companions to leave. Once he was certain he was alone, he whistled sharply. After a second, a dark mass leapt from its hiding spot on the roof and landed heavily next to the man.

“Hey boy. Are you up for a little trip?” Kaari inquired softly to Ryoko as he stroked his nose.

Ryoko yawned, his mouth opening wide and showing off dozens of sharp teeth.

“I know it’s late but Devon asked me to fill in as a Courier tonight. You don’t want to disappoint her do you?” He replied with a smirk.

Ryoko gave a little huff, accepting his fate.

“Alright bud, let’s go. We’re off to Tinworth, Cornwall.” Kaari pat his satchel filled with rolls of parchment, each one glowing with a fiery Phoenix symbol, visible to his eyes only.

“Oh, and I might have some meat and bread in my bag too for a midnight snack.” He added quickly and Ryoko perked up, suddenly full of energy and they took off into the inky black sky above.

County Waterford, Ireland - September 15th, 12:01 AM

Icy cold rain and wind slammed into Huck Fitzgerald the second he apparated. Pulling his hood up to shelter his face and wrapping his jacket tighter around him, he looked up through the rain at the small cottage, a warm glow seeping out of the windows invitingly.

Walking up to the door, Huck rapped his knuckles on the door in a specific manner. A few moments go by and then the door opened to reveal a rosy cheeked blonde woman in a bright yellow sweater, hair in a messy half updo. The warmth of the house rushed out to meet Huck. The woman gestured for him to enter and then quickly shut the door, keeping the cold at bay.

“Hello Huck, you are right on time as always.” Greeted Ellie Hopper cheerfully.

“Good evening, Ellie. Here’s today’s edition of the Phoenix Paper.” He replied politely, pulling the rolls of parchment out of his bag and placing them on the table.

“You’re welcome to stay here for the night, you know. That storm out there is unforgiving and I’d hate for you to get lost or sick.” She offered, already knowing his answer.

“You are too kind, but it’s no problem really. I’ve really got to get back. Thank you for the offer though.”

“My pleasure. Everyone is welcome here. Oh, and say hello to Henry for me will you?”

“Sure thing! See you tomorrow night, Ellie.”

“Goodnight Huck and thank you for the delivery!” She shouted in return as the door opened to the roar of the storm.

Ellie watched from the window as the figure of Huck faded into the darkness and then disapparated in a blur.

Diagon Alley, London, September 15th - 12:28 AM

Two figures in masks wandered down a dark alley, passing by a few stacks of crates and disappearing around a corner. Emerging from behind the crates, a very small figure entered the light. Pulling down her hood to reveal brilliant blue hair, she smiled coyly at the direction the Death Eaters went before quickly dashing the opposite way.

Quinn Mercurenius was fast and almost completely silent as she rushed down alleyways and around corners, wand in her hand and her ears and eyes alert. Every so often she stopped, pulling a roll of parchment out of her satchel and pinning it to the stone walls. Some she leaves laying on barrels or crates.

Diagon Alley was one of the more dangerous Courier routes. In London, it was very rare to run into Death Eaters because of the sheer mass of muggles. Here in the wizard section of the city, you were almost guaranteed to run into one at every street corner. Quinn was lucky tonight as most nights she has close calls, often resorting to dueling to escape.

She had delivered her last Paper and was heading back to the Leaky Cauldron to enter back into London when she heard a noise behind her. Quickly peeking behind her shoulder, her heart skipped a beat as she saw she was being tailed by three Death Eaters.

Noticing her gaze, they broke into a run straight for her, spells hurling towards her and missing by inches. She took off running, turning corner after corner in an effort to lose them.

“Petrificus Totalus!” A shout from behind her echoed as a beam of light collided into a wall beside her, sending shards of rock in every direction and cutting her cheek.

Breathing heavy, Quinn rounded another corner, cursing when she met a dead end. Whirling around, the three men caught up to her, laughing crudely.

“Just give up already. You’ve nowhere to go and you’re outnumbered. Tell us who the author of the Paper is and where we can find them and we will let you go.” One of them demanded.

Her eyes rapidly scanned the surroundings, desperate for any escape route.

“Piss off!” Quinn shouted, raising her wand.

“Stupefy”

“Incarcerous”

“Expelliarmus”

All three yelled, sending jets of magic hurtling towards Quinn.

“Protego!” She countered, the spells breaking upon the shield inches before her.

“Fumos!” She cast an instant later, the alley filling with dark grey smoke.

The Death Eaters rushed in, coughing and casting finite incantatem. The smoke cleared a few seconds later, leaving the three men staring at an impossibly small sewer drain, dumbfounded and completely alone.

Tagging @thatravenpuffwitch @unfortunate-arrow @danceworshipper uwu

[gruviafan-forever]

A/N: Hello everyone, Happy Gruvia Week to you. I didn't expect that I would be writing contents for this year's event too. But I'm really happy to be writing stories about my favourite anime couples.

   Hopefully, everyone likes it. This year the prompts were very similar to previous years. It had me in fix how to write content without making it a repetitive fashion.

   Finally got an idea and tried to merge all those 7 prompts into a storyline. Hopefully, it convinces you all.

   Thank you for reading and spending your time here.

----------------------------------------------

Main Pairing: GRUVIA

Summary:- Celebrity Gray x General Public Juvia, Modern AU

Words:- 2K

Currently, Fairy Tail Agency has arranged for a press meet to officially declare the facts of the new movie in which two of their most famous actors are going to be a part.

Gray Fullbuster, 25 years, tv artist turned actor and Lucy Heartfilia, 24 years, model turned actress, has signed up for this movie which is under the production of Straussl Inc.

As the reporters who out various questions regarding the details of this upcoming venture and some related to their personal life.

"So, Mr Fullbuster, tell us about how you feel knowing that you have been nominated for 3 categories of awards this year?" 

One of the reporters asked and was ready to note Gray's response.

"I'm sure that I will receive the awards for best actor and handsome face. Also, my last movie 'Icy Days' has been nominated for the best movie of the year. But not sure about the 'Gem of the decade' award." 

Gray confidently answered and smiled which made the female reporters squeal.

Lucy interrupted, "Not to ruin Gray's fantasy but my movie 'Starry Night At Stella' was a blockbuster hit. Myself and my co-actor Natsu Dragneel were praised by critics for our performance. So, Gray, don't forget that even we are on the race too." Lucy smiled which made everyone chuckle after hearing her opinions.

"Sure Lucy... All the best to you and Natsu" Gray told and looked at his manager, Erza Scarlet, who also happens to be Natsu's manager, to know when this press meet is going to end.

"Another 10 minutes" Erza gestured by hand signals. 

Suddenly, one of the reporters from Magnolia Times shot down a question that took Gray off guard.

"Recently, there was a photo of Mr Fullbuster with a child in his arms. Who does that child happen to be? And is it true that you are having an illicit affair with someone, Mr Fullbuster?" That reporter smirked. 

Gray remained indifferent and calmly answered him while his team members and staff panicked.

"Everyone in Fiore knows that it was a piece of fake news. In today's era of modern technology, it is easy to photoshop one's picture with anything and anyone, Mr Invel.

    Even my agency owner, Mr Makarov Dreyer and my manager, Ms Scarlet have clarified about it. So, don't go digging the old hoax rumours." 

Gray stood up and thanked everyone for their time and presence before dashing off to the exit where Lucy followed him back.

It was Erza and the production team who bid a farewell to the reporters before joining the actors in their cabin.

Once Erza reached Gray's cabin, she saw him tossing his coat and tie around the room while Lucy stood silently.

"Gray, I think you should disclose your relationship before it gets exposed in a bad way," Erza said calmly and patted his back.

"That's what I was thinking, Erza. I can't continue to hide this big news about my life for a long time from my fans. I will reveal this during the awards function." Gray looked determined and hoped that his fans would take it on a positive note.

"They will surely accept your relationship status just like how they received mine and Natsu's." Lucy encouraged him and patted his arms which seemed to make him calm down.

"Gray, tomorrow you have your day off then, on Wednesday, we will be going to Phoenix Mall for a fan meet up event where other actors of our agency will join us." Erza informed him and handed the invitation.

From the invitation, it was clear that this mall was quite near to his apartment complex. Moreover, it was arranged by Mr Makarov himself so there was no way of turning it down.

"Fine, I will get ready for this. Just send the car near the children's park no need to come in front of the complex." He informed Erza and thanked them both for their words of motive before he left them.

After half an hour, Gray reached the children's park and put on his disguise, cooling glass, mask and a cap to conceal his identity while he was dressed up in a simple t-shirt and jeans.

"Max, tomorrow's your day off. Pick me up here at 9 am on Wednesday. Bye."

"Yes, Mr Fullbuster. Bye, and Good night" The driver left him while Gray made his way towards his home.

The apartment complex in which he lived was one of the expensive housing in Magnolia. The higher the floor level, the higher is the cost and the higher is the security.

Till the 11th floor, the general public who did high order jobs lived while the next 10 floors were occupied by celebrities of various fields.

One of the perks of this housing agency was that their identity remains secret, not even their neighbours know about them until and unless the involved party discloses it.

Once Gray reached the 17th floor, which had two apartments where one was still vacant.

As he hit the doorbell of his apartment, Gray could hear voices coming from inside which brought a smile on his face.

The door opened and his eyes met the gorgeous lady who welcomed him with a beautiful smile that captivated him.

"Welcome home, Gray-sama"

"I'm home, Juvia," Gray said and got inside.

Soon, he removed the disguise and leaned forward to kiss her lips which she reciprocated back.

Once they broke off the kiss, Juvia hugged him and whispered, "I missed you, Gray-sama."

"Even, I missed you, Juvia. It's been a week since I last saw you and…." Before he could finish, both of them felt someone hugging their legs.

And it was none their 3-year-old daughter, Yuki Fullbuster, who resembled her mother but had father's hair and eye colour and his sharp nose.

"Papa"

Seeing his daughter's smile was enough for him to get distracted from his wife, then, have his undivided attention on his little munchkin.

Gray raised Yuki in his arms and kissed her cheeks and forehead who did the same to her papa.

"Yuki missed you, papa."

"Even, papa missed you, darling. Were you a good girl during papa's absence?" Gray asked her as they moved towards the living room.

Gray let her down who ran up to a table and tried to fetch her drawing notebook.

Juvia made her husband sit down and inquired him about his work as he looked tired and kinda depressed.

Gray convinced her everything was fine and told her about the press meet excluding the details of the rumours.

#

It had been 4 years since Gray started his acting career starting as an ad shoot model to tv artists then to movie star.

Gray, Natsu and Erza were childhood friends who did their schooling from the same institution till college.

It was during the 3rd year, Gray and Natsu got scouted to act as models for a tv commercial which they accepted readily as of then they needed some kind of part-time jobs to meet their ends.

Even, Erza thought that it was a good opportunity for them to succeed as the agency, Fairy Tail, was well known throughout Fiore and persuaded them to take up the offer.

Once, their commercials began to reach people mainly because of their handsome features and physique especially Gray got popular among the female fans.

It was during this time that Gray and Natsu had to move out of the college dorm so that they could work freely without time restrictions.

That's when Gray meets Juvia for the first time in his life. She was his neighbour whom he thought lived her boyfriend but it turned out to be her best friend, Gajeel Redfox, vocalist of Phantom Bands, an upcoming band.

Gray rarely started any kind of conversation with anyone. It was with the help of Natsu that they befriended Juvia and to date, Gray was thankful to his friend.

Until the moment he met Juvia, Gray was never keen on love or relationships. 

But to him, Juvia was way different from the girls he had met in his college. She was modest and shy but a kind person with a large helping tendency.

Gray knew her personality and beauty had beguiled his attention and wanting to know more about her made him fall for her head over heels.

Of course, they would exchange greetings whenever they met while leaving the house together. Slowly they deepened their connection and exchanged numbers.

Due to her friendly nature, Juvia would invite Gray and Natsu over to her place for small weekend parties which she would arrange for Gajeel to relieve his stress.

At first, he was reluctant to invade a party meant for Gajeel but the latter happily welcomed them.

That way, they got acquainted exchanged their work details and stress with each other.

It was after a few months of that weekend party that Gray had offered Juvia a dinner date which she accepted after a week of thinking.

By this time, Gray gained quite a lot of recognition. The reason he called her out on a dinner date was to reveal that he has signed up as the main lead for a tv drama which was produced by a well-known production house.

Juvia was elated and congratulated and wished him luck. It was during that time Gray confessed his love for her and waited for her answer.

To his surprise, Juvia readily accepted him. He still remembers her words from that time,

"Gray-sama, even I feel the same for you. I was afraid to convey my feelings to you as each day our world was getting apart. I was determined to tell you today after dinner.

     But to my surprise, I never expected even you would feel the same. I love you, Gray-sama."

After hearing her say those golden words, Gray got hold of her hand and kissed it lightly and asked Juvia to be his girlfriend which she agreed.

Once they reached their respective place, Gray kissed her lips and shared a hug before calling off that night.

The next day, both of them informed their friends about their relationship. Erza and Natsu were supportive.

But Gajeel was reluctant he wanted to tell Juvia how difficult it would be for her to date a celebrity.

She has to remain under the shadows. Moreover, if words go out then obsessive fans might harm her and she would be constantly under paparazzi's scrutiny if Gray's facing bad times.

But Juvia was ready to face any difficulties and wanted to support her boyfriend in his career.

#

Once the family had their dinner together, Gray tugged his daughter in her bed before planting a kiss on her forehead and wished her good night.

Juvia was washing the dishes when Gray snaked his arms around her waist and kissed her neck which made Juvia squeak.

Gray turned off the tap and turned his wife so that she could face him.

"Juvia, tomorrow's my day off. Even the night is still young. Moreover, I missed my wife…" He leaned forward and kissed her lips which made her moan against his lips.

"Gray-sama…."

"Juvia…." Both of their eyes were clouded with lust and decided to continue their passionate night inside their bedroom.

After an hour, both was them were under the blankets, Gray had his arm around his wife and hummed in her ears as she talked about her day with Yuki.

Juvia could sense her husband's hold around her waist getting tight. He did only when he felt insecure or paranoid.

Juvia turned around to face him who kept looking at her. She cupped his face with both of her hands which startled him.

"Gray-sama, what's on your mind? Spill it out. Don't go huddling up those stressful thoughts within you. Share it with your wife. I will help you lessen those burdens." Juvia conveyed her thoughts and smiled at him.

"This is what I'm beguiled about you, Juvia. You can easily find out my conflicting thoughts just by sensing my actions. I'm really lucky to have you as my soulmate, dear." Gray said earnestly and kissed her forehead which made Juvia feel special.

Then slowly Gray disclosed his fears about how the world will perceive his relationship and worried that this shouldn't cause any harm to either Juvia and Yuki especially.

After hearing his fears, Juvia cradled her husband and patted his back just like how she does it for her daughter whenever she has nightmares.

Gray seemed to relax from this action. Juvia assured him that nothing terrible is going to happen and just hope everything turns out well.

Suddenly Gray raised his head and questioned her, "What if things repeat? And this time to our Yuki."

Juvia's eyes grew wide, but she can't show her fear, at least, not in front of her husband for now, who himself was feeling paranoid.

"I'm sure nothing will happen. Let's have faith in ourselves and your fans, Gray-sama.

       I'm just worried that your fan number might get reduced once you reveal your married status." Juvia voiced her concern.

This time it was Gray's turn to convince her, "Nah! Just like you said let's hope for the best. I love you and Yuki. Remember that, okay"

Gray smiled and kissed her lips, "Juvia, you are still warm. Wanna continue from where we left?" He teased her.

It seemed her Gray-sama was back to normal for now.

A/N: Sorry for posting it bit late. Hope I will be able to update for the rest of the event.

[i-swear-im-not-a-snitch]

Chapter One: A Chat With Death

First - Previous - Next - Masterlist - (ao3)

        Harry Potter is gone. Dead. 

        This was the absolute worst case scenario for one Draco Lucius Malfoy, for at the height of the battle, the boy had gone against the Death Eaters and had fought with the Order of the Phoenix. Draco might as well be dead himself at this point. A few months ago, he had overheard a conversation between his aunt Belatrix Lestrange and his father about a prophecy. If Harry had only decided to live through the battle instead of being an idiot Gryffindor and going to the trap in the forest, the battle was as good as won! But Harry Potter just had to go and die. Stupid Gryffindor. Of course the forest was a trap! Did you really think he would let your friends live if they wouldn’t join him? Idiot. Draco was sure he would be executed or publicly tortured for his actions; however, he couldn’t bring himself to regret what he had done.

        When Lord Voldemort strode into the courtyard proclaiming his victory with all his followers at his back laughing in the faces of the survivors was the moment Draco finally lost hope. He felt ashamed as he tuned out the Dark Lord’s victory taunts and avoided his family’s eyes. He felt terrible for betraying them; but, it could not be helped. Despite his family loyalties, Draco understood that it was best if the Order of the Phoenix walked out of the war victorious, there was little hope for that now, though. However, when his Mother called for him, he allowed his familial ties to pull him back to his parents, they had already lost. 

        Several things happened at once. Neville Longbottom, of all people, pulled the Sword of Gryffindor out of the sorting hat and beheaded Nagini. In the midst of the chaos, Harry vanished. He’s alive! Elated, Draco sprinted across the no-man’s land barely dodging several crucios from his lovely aunt to join Neville in valiantly battling the quickly thinning crowd of fleeing death eaters. 

        Across the field, Harry was dodging curses left and right. Harry doesn’t have a wand. In the most Griffindor thing Draco would probably ever do in his lifetime he shouted.

        “Harry!” and Draco threw his wand. However, he would never know if he caught it. At that precise moment, He turned and Lucius Malfoy was standing a few feet away. As he met his father’s eyes, Draco heard two words leave his mouth, Avada Kedavra, and the world went green.

         An Eternity later, the green mist gave way to a forest. Not a dark forest like the forbidden one, but more towards something that could be painted in a tasteful child’s bedroom. It was… soothing. Is this what death is like? Draco strolled down one of the many paths, after a few minutes, he came to a pond with an iron and wood bench by it’s shore. The water seemed to be made of diamonds and glorious Koi fish swam in it’s depths. Finally glancing at the branch, Draco was surprised to find it occupied. Am I not dead? The woman on the bench appeared to be at least the equivalent of a ninety year-old muggle. She had wispy white hair that was neatly tucked into a knit, striped hat. At her side was a similarly knit bag filled with needles and yarn. She makes them herself. I was sure I was dead, I heard the curse. The elderly woman on the bench seemed to sense his hesitation and moved her purse to her lap and patted for him to sit with her. 

        “I must say, I cannot kill you, you are already dead. Sit, let us talk.” He approached the woman and cautiously relaxed into the surprisingly comfortable bench. “That’s better, child.”

        “Who are you, exactly and why are we the only ones here? Hundreds of people died today.” The woman smiled.

        “Yes, but only one Draco Malfoy died today.” She gave him a few moments to think. “Where do you think we are?” He looked around.

        “A forest pond. But I’m dead, so we can’t be at a real pond." Draco thought for a beat. “Are you Death?” The woman grinned wider.

        “You are a smart boy, Mr. Malfoy. Very observant. Yes, I am Death. Very clever, very clever.” 

        “If I may ask, out of all the forms you could take, why an elderly woman?” He politely inquired. 

        “Most people fear me, Draco. If they fear me, my form will frighten them.” 

        “So,” Draco frowned. “I don’t fear you? That doesn’t sound right. Everyone fears death.” She shook her head. 

        “No Draco, you do not fear me, you respect me. Fear and warryness are entirely different.” Death smiled pleasantly, the wrinkles scrunching up in the most welcoming way he could imagine was possible. “It has been a long while since I've talked with someone who is not frightened. It is pleasant.”

        “Thank you?”

        “Tell me, Draco, how did you die?” He grimaced. What do I have to lose by telling her?

        “I betrayed Lord Voldemort and my father killed me for it.” Draco winced in one breath. Death only nodded knowingly. 

        “Do you feel like you died a noble death, Draco?” He shook his head. Death frowned, “Why would you answer no?” 

        “I was a coward, I switched sides when things weren’t going my way. I died a cowardly traitor. I betrayed my family!” he had tears in his eyes now, “The worst part is I would do it again! How could I do that to my own parents?” Death’s eyes shone with understanding. “Hell! If I had the chance I would change sides as soon as I received my Hogwarts letter! There’s so much I did wrong! So much.” He sobbed out the last few words and Death began to rub circles on his back comfortingly.

        “Oh, poor dear, would you really change everything?”

        “If I really knew how wrong I was, I would. I would live on the streets if I had to.” Draco sniffed

        “You are a very loyal young man when you believe in something, Draco, this may help you. Could you fetch the golden cube in the pond for me, dear?” Draco frowned, confused, but nodded anyway. “Good! Bring it back to me when you're done.” Draco nodded again and turned to the pond.

        Wading Into the water, Draco was pleasantly surprised by the soothing temperature of the crystal clear water. The deeper Draco waded the more koi noticed his presence in their territory. Not used to visitors, the fish swam excitedly around him in circles, some rubbing gently against his legs. It was a deeper pond than he thought it was, he was up to his natural waist when he spotted a shimmer of gold ahead of him that was not a fish. Stepping up to the glimmer, Draco nudged it with his foot. It was heavy and square, so he ducked under the water to grasp at the weighty block. Why in Salazar would Death need a golden cube? With great struggle, Draco managed to carry the cube out of the shimmering water and lie back on the shore. Merlin! I underestimated how big the cube was.

        Draco, after a few minutes, rolled over and tiredly sat up to examine his prize. Unlike what he initially suspected, the cube was intricately carved with runes that despite taking Ancient Runes for several years at Hogwarts, Draco could not read or even decide what culture it belonged to. Could it be Death’s own handwriting? That would explain how I have no knowledge about these characters. As Draco contemplated the golden object, a hand tapped him on the shoulder startling him. 

        “Hello Draco, I see you have the golden cube I asked for.” Death held out her hand with kind eyes and Draco almost felt compelled to give it to her; however, after a second of consideration, he handed it over. It would not be wise to anger Death. 

        Death turned the gold over in her hand as if it weighed no more than an empty box and began muttering to herself. 

        “Yes, this will do. Draco, Come here please.” Draco followed her instructions and took both her hands in his hands when she held them out. Death spoke once more and the cube began to spin between them. 

        “En odn uebe mit dnaht aedy am. Lle wtie su, er ar eras ecna hcdno ces. N osos uo yeva el ots uoi cerpo otsi ti ofu oyot erus aer tsi htn rute ri, evo lym, Efil.” And with the last word, the world went black.

        The ground is soft. Grass should not be this soft. What’s the last thing you remember, Draco. … Death. I met Death. Is this the official afterlife? Despite his curiosity, Draco could not bring himself to open his eyes, instead opting for feeling around his surroundings. Moving his hands out to his sides, He determined that he was laying on a blanket. Come on Draco, open your eyes!  And he did. 

        Above him was a canopy enchanted to show an accurate depiction of the stars above in real time. Turning his head he noticed the many dragons chasing each other around on the walls of the room. Salazar! This is my childhood bedroom. The bedroom I vacated in third year! Draco sat up in shock. How did he end up here? Draco immediately began scanning his room for clues, yet, everything was where her remembered they were supposed to be. How odd. At that moment, he noticed a folded piece of paper on the nightstand with his name in the most beautiful handwriting he did not recognise. Did Death send this? 

Draco, 

        I hope your journey has not caused too much shock on your part. However, inquiring about your health is not the purpose of this letter. This is proof. Proof that all you remember is not some strange dream. In your left pocket, you will find a small cube similar to the one I had you retrieve as further proof of your story. You are not crazy. This is a second chance. I have decided that you meant what you said and I will give you the opportunity to turn your speech into action. 

        Today’s date, as you will soon discover, is June 5th, 1991, the day you receive your Hogwarts letter. I implore you to remember and keep your promise and make good with the time you have received with Life. Good luck and may Death and Time be undone. 

Your Final Friend

        Draco immediately ran across the room to find an empty notebook to copy the letter into. When he grabbed a quill and ink bottle, Draco used wandless magic to charm the ink invisible to all but him and duplicated the letter, word for word, in his own neat handwriting. The following pages were filled with everything he could remember about the seven years he attended at Hogwarts as well as all the details from the three years Voldemort occupied Malfoy Manor. Ugh. The occupation, arguably the worst three years of his life.  The next list Draco made was of people who he didn’t want to die again. The list was short, for now, Draco was certain that it would grow as he got to know the other members of the Order of the Phoenix. Oh Merlin, I’ll have to help Harry Potter on all his little quests throughout the years. He groaned. At least school would never be boring outside of History of Magic class. 

        There was a knock at the door and Draco steeled his nerves. He would soon have to face his father, the very man who had shot a killing curse at his only son. Who shot a killing curse at him. It was going to be a very rough morning. Lucius, despite his neglect, made sure to attend all birthday breakfasts. Probably for the special food that was prepared on such occasions. Finally collecting his thoughts into a practiced state of occlumency, Draco opened the door.

First - Previous - Next - Masterlist - (ao3)

Note: 

Translation of the ritual.

         Life, my love, I return this treasure to you for it is too precious to leave you so soon. Second chances are rare, use it well. May death and time be undone.

Hey yall, MJ here

I’ve decided to start on a harry potter Fiction (Adventures After a Chat With Death)  with my new Pseud! (what do you think?) feel free to comment and message me with questions, criticism and POLITE conversation. If you would like to be tagged please let me know

      Kisses, MJ

TagList:

@ no one yet

[easily-infatuated23]

Undercover- Part Five

Prologue, Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

a/n: hello! parts of this are loosely based on a Doctor Who episode but i felt like it added to this. this series will probably be coming to a close soon but i hope you enjoy! Y/H/H= your hogwarts house Y/E/C= your eye color

pairing: Healer! Draco x Reader

summary: Draco calls upon Harry Potter for help to find Y/N before she is killed by the Dark Saints

warnings: ok so we’ve got a little bit of blood and mentions of torture and violence, and reader is choked for like .5 seconds

word count: 1.4k

Being an Auror is not an easy job. It takes a lot of willpower and strength to be surrounded by darkness everyday and still be able to go home and smile. The job didn’t leave much time for seeing friends but Harry Potter did his best. The oddest friend he had made after the war was Draco Malfoy. He felt sorry for the bully. As much as he hated Draco while at Hogwarts, the war showed him that under his evil exterior, was a scared kid trying to please his parents in any way he could. Harry had even testified at Draco’s hearing. He defended Draco saying that had he not had Lucius Malfoy for a father, he probably wouldn’t have become a Death Eater. After this, he and Draco began meeting for lunch and slowly making amends. It took a few years but the two had managed to build a working friendship, but, the day that Draco called Harry and asked that he come to Malfoy Manor immediately seemed out of the ordinary.

Once Harry arrived, he found Draco looking worse for wear. His face looked hollow and his blonde hair was messy. “Thank you so much for coming. I hate to pull you away from work but this is very serious and I don’t know who else to trust” Draco said, as he rubbed the side of his face anxiously. “Whats going on?” Harry inquired. “Do you remember Y/F/N Y/L/N? She was two years behind us at school in Y/H/H?”. Harry thought for a moment and then nodded. “Nice kid, she kinda disappeared after school if I remember correctly”. Draco sighed and nodded. He then proceeded to tell Harry the whole story. He showed him Y/N’s list and even the book that contained signatures of the most evil witches and wizards as of late. They returned back to the kitchen as Draco finished his story. “And then she disapparated. I have no idea where she is now but, I’m worried about her”. Harry adjusted his glasses. “You did the right thing telling me this. I knew about the deaths and every time I tried to investigate my inquiries were shut down by an anonymous higher up. Now I know why”. In his voice was a tone of frustration and sadness. There had been a war going on right beneath his nose and he hadn’t seen it. Harry looked at the list of names again and frowned. Some had been friends, or in the least faces he grew to recognize from years of passing through the halls of the ministry. “She must be terrified” Draco said remorsefully. “Yes. But she is also brave. This assignment is incredibly dangerous and the fact that she has survived this far tells me that she uses that fear well. As a strange man once told me, fear keeps you fast”.

Draco began pacing back and forth. “What are we going to do?” he asked. Harry thought for a while. The next steps would be difficult ones for sure. “Well, the first thing we have to do is find Y/N and keep her safe and hidden. Even if we manage to get Hiram Baxter to trial, it’s unlikely the ministry will accept a second hand testimony from either you or I. We need her”. Draco nodded in agreement. Then, he remembered. Draco slapped his palm to the middle of his forehead and scoffed at himself. “I’m so thick! I completely forgot that I still have her DNA trace from the hospital. It’ll be risky to use if the Dark Saints have figured out how to use it, but it’s worth a shot”. Harry pulled his wand out of his jacket. “Right, let’s get started”.

Once Draco activated the trace, the two men followed the trail and found themselves on a familiar street. “12 Grimmauld Place” Harry said wistfully. “She really is smart”. The two checked the area for any muggles or unwelcome wizards before entering the former home base of the Order of the Phoenix. After they entered, Draco deactivated the trace. “Even though this was once a place that housed friends, we should still be cautious” Harry said. Draco nodded and drew his wand. Harry motioned for the two to advance down the hall. They were each checking rooms when they heard a loud bang. “That came from one of the rooms upstairs” Harry remarked. As they climbed the stairs the sounds of voices became more apparent.

“Now now little missy we don’t want to make a fuss” a gruff voice growled in a thick northern accent. There were muffled sounds of someone struggling, and the slight scrapping of a chair on the floor. Harry and Draco inched closer to the door and were met with a horrible sight. Y/N was tied to a chair. She was gagged and had fresh wounds on her face and arms. She had clearly been involved in a struggle. There were three large men in the room. One lounging on the bed and smiling devilishly, the other leaning against the opposite wall, and the third was circling Y/N. He was the man whose voice the two had heard. As he circled Y/N, he would lean in and whisper something foul in her ear or toss her hair. “He’s trying to intimidate her” Harry whispered. The gruff northerner spoke again. “So, let’s try this again. Tell me what you know and you’ll be spared, refuse to speak and you die” he growled. He leaned forward and removed the gag from her mouth before settling into a chair positioned directly in front of her. She gasped for air and took some deep desperate breaths before finally speaking. “Fine, I’ll tell you what I know” she said, a single tear rolling down her cheek. “But first, answer me one question..” The northerner’s face twisted impatiently. “Are you new at this or something because you are really bad at threatening people” she said. Her attitude and posture had changed suddenly. The tears had gone along with any trace of fear or desperation in her voice. “What?” the northerner said, genuinely shocked. “I mean come on, you can’t tell the one person who has the information you need that if they don’t tell you, you’ll kill them. Thats interrogation rule number one”. The other two men shifted curiously as their attention focused in on Y/N. “I mean honestly, you’ve just told me that not telling you will keep me alive. Besides, let’s face it, you and I both know that once I tell you what I know you are going to kill me any way”. The northerner stood up and pushed away his chair angrily. He grabbed Y/N by the throat and lifted her slightly out of her chair and closer to his face. “Then I guess we’ll have to torture it out of you” he spat. “Then do your worst because I will gladly go through any amount of pain before I give up my life” she choked. He let go of her neck and she slammed back into the chair.

Draco and Harry were shocked. Draco had seen how terrified she was in the manor, but here it seemed all that fear had been hidden away. Harry’s mind was spinning. He was desperately trying to formulate a plan that would end with Y/N making it out of the situation alive but every situation he tried ended in death. A jab in the ribs from Draco brought Harry out of his head. He looked at the blonde who was pointing into the room. Y/N’s hands were tightly balled into fists but if you looked closely, there was a dim grey light emitting from between her fingers. Draco looked up at Y/N’s face and found her Y/E/C eyes starring back into him. She had seen them. Her attitude remained completely the same except for a slight wink and a small facial gesture indicating that the two should be ready to hold their breath. She turned her head to the right to look back at the northerner who was huddled up with his associates whispering. “Hey boys, pleasant dreams” she mocked. Then, the most peculiar bit of magic either Draco or Harry had ever seen occurred. Y/N un-balled her fists and the grey light turned into fog and flooded the room within seconds. Harry and Draco held their breath as they watched the three men try to make their way to Y/N before their bodies seemingly shut down. They then heard a sharp inhale come from Y/N and the fog disappeared. The two tentatively entered the room and were met with the sight of three large men passed out on the floor and Y/N smiling weakly. “Welcome to the party” she said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist!: @pointlesscoconut​ @bi-andready-tocry​  @lunars​  @spencerreidisbootiful​  @uyenlee​  @theotherscottishgirl 

[mortuislupus]

till nothing but my heart remains.

PROMPT 1 (AFTERMATH) of my 30-day WoL challenge! I wanted a soft continuation from ‘the first bloom of spring is always a defiance’ without the hard emet focus, so, here we go ---

The goddess faded. The girl remained.

It was not the legend of Ouroboros as the Amaurotines envisioned it, but it was rebirth all the same --- a city crumbling beneath the weight of their own hubris; the fragmented phoenix's rising from the ashes to claim dominion over shattered stars. Validity had no claim over one’s self, and as Hades had proven unto himself, no matter how he might try to yank the tail from the snake, it would forever take. He was not the one. His was not the world.

Theirs was the one that remained. Light-soaked and sacrosanct, though healing all the same, as Kor beheld the bloom of dawn it took all she could not to crumble like a pillar no longer carrying weight of two planets. She was tired --- so very, very tired --- and as her friends gathered around her in relief she was thankful for their presence. One hand on Thancred’s stoic arm, another on Alphinaud’s shoulder, she listened to their gleeful declarations and concerned inquires; most especially from Ryne, whose confusion and alarm ran faster than words could speak.

“H-How did you --- exactly what did you... can you tell us what happened?”

“Later, please,” she answered, and though Ryne’s eyes grew wide for a moment, she nodded. Kor could not begin to explain in that moment the unification of Ardbert and she --- two wayward souls now bound together to make a whole. But as they all could see and sense, her aether had made a home in her.

But the glimpse of tattered fabric caught her eye quicker than the rest. He approached slowly, hesitation at the backbone of every movement, and he could not look at her. 

G’raha had always been a poor liar. His ascent to Crystal Exarch might have bestowed upon him a shrewd reservation in addition to his sharp wit, but it was in the cracks he desperately tried to hold she could see the man beneath. She was angry that he had deceived her; angry that, for reasons unbeknown to her, she felt as if though he could not trust her. What was the point of having him so close if he would not let her pass the final threshold? Saviour or no, why would he summon her to such a task if he felt he could not impart the reality?

Yet seeing him there in actuality, without the cowl and refinery of his station, she still felt the breath catch in her lungs. Time had changed them both, but even with the crystal’s influence and two royal eyes, the truth of him was unmistakable. Though bloodied, bruised and dishevelled, he was awake. He was alive.

“I believe I owe you all an apology. And you most especially.”

‘No fucking kidding,’ Kor thought to herself, and yet she could not will herself the energy to speak the sarcasm. Instead, as she gently eased her weight off her companions, she stood up straight to face him.

Fury, resentment and betrayal. These were the emotions she’d felt acutely when in his presence, swallowed down with a bitter spoon of apathy to try and cure the pain. It was in her right to bare that to him, to show him the hurt he had inflicted trying to play a lone god ---

And yet she smiled.

“’tis good to see you awake, G’raha Tia.”

Acknowledgement. Recognition. Forgiveness. It was more than she thought she had in her, and yet it were given willingly to the one she’d missed the most. And in that moment, an etch suspended in the fabric of time, they were young again; the boastful, boyish scholar and  sardonic, irritable adventurer. The most unlikely companions, yet one she’d mourned when he was entombed.

Kor watched the way her words hit. How his name, one likely unused in nigh a century, could be given so candidly amongst the little joke. Water pooled in G’raha’s eyes, falling easily down dirtied cheeks despite how vigorously he moved to wipe them. Part of her wanted to ask him why it mattered, yet the other half was trying not to mimic. But as his gaze finally met her own, he returned the smile, and the joy.

“Well... ‘tis good to be awake!”

[wonderlandmind4]

The Winter Soldier: A Ghost Story Chp-3

Pairing: Winter Soldier x OFC

Summary: Most of the intelligence community doesn’t believe he exists. The ones who do call him the Winter Soldier. He’s a ghost story. So why does he keep coming back?

Warnings: None

Important Note: I said it before, but this story is a lot darker than anything I have ever wrote with the themes in it. Please proceed with caution during those moments. Everything in this story is a connection.

Words: 1.8k

A/N: Also, I lied. I did update a fic! Whoo! Happy New Year! I hope you all enjoy this super short yet important chapter :) and thank you for being patient with me (one shot fic on the way)

March 16th, 2012 6:00am

Ophelia wakes to frost on her window and a throbbing ache in her side. She groans pitifully, cursing her sleeping self for rolling over and staying on her bruised side. Maybe she’ll call Saige to see if she has any pain killers to ease the bruise. Of course, then she would have to explain to her sister why she needs them in the first place, and opening that can of long buried worms will not be fun.

She rolls onto her back carefully. Just as she’s contemplating calling into work and staying in her warm cozy bed, then cat pounces on her out of thin air. She groans as he landed on her injured side and chest, paws digging into the bruise and her cleavage. Binks chirps shortly, clearly irate at the lack of food. He flops down on her chest, belly up beneath her chin.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” She grumbles, patting his belly. Binks’ response is to bite her wrist. “Okay, demanding diva.”

After she gets up and feeds her starving cat, she’s dressed and ready for work by seven forty-five. The frost on the windows don’t give way to snow like it did several nights before, and for that she’s thankful. The winter lasted a bit longer this time around, and as much as she loves the snow, she’s ready for Spring. Especially when Ophelia slips on a patch of frozen ground just as she’s about to enter the work building.

She catches herself on the handle of the door, the quick movement tweaking her ribs. She rolls her eyes because if she doesn’t stop doing these little abrupt movements, the healing will just be prolonged. Slow clapping comes from behind her as she straightens up, shooting an unimpressed look over her shoulder.

“Graceful. I thought you were the master at heels and ice,” Carter quips, a playful smirk on his mouth.

“Tell me how you met your husband, again?” She counters, yanking the door open to cautiously step inside. She doesn’t hold it open for him.

Carter huffs as he enters himself. “I don’t recall.”

Ophelia hums thoughtfully. “Wasn’t it a snowy, iced filled day, and you just couldn’t take your eyes off this handsome man, so you stepped in slush, slipped and busted your ass in front of him?”

He clears his throat as he follows her down the hall to the coffee kiosk. “Your point?”

“It was just a very kultzy meet-cute is all,” She smiles brightly as they get in line.

“Well, now we’re married so, he must’ve seen something in me.”

She chuckles while patting his shoulder. “That he did.”

**

Two hours into the work day, and Ophelia is only a quarter of the way through proof reading those policies. She welcomes the break when the intercom on her desk phone beeps.

“Ophelia, do you mind running those files of the International Waters Piracy reports over to me?”

“Not at all, sir,” She responds, quickly slipping her feet back into her maroon pumps. “Did you want the Defense protocols as well?”

“Please. The afternoon meeting got pushed up, starts in ten minutes.”

Pausing her search through the filing cabinet, she says, “I wasn’t informed, sir. I’m sorry-“

“Nonsense, I was just informed about it.”

“In that case, shall I scan them and send them or the hard copies will do?”

“Hard copies, thank you.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Once she finds and gathers the files, Ophelia saves the proof reads she uploaded to her computer and exits her office. She makes her way over to the conference room where the meetings are usually held, placing the flies on the long table, sliding them over to where her boss is sitting. He glances up from his phone, greeting her with a nod.

“Did you have a good weekend? As I haven’t gotten a chance to ask you yesterday,” He inquires lightly, dragging the folders over.

She can’t help the way her spine tenses just a little but she’s careful to keep her expression calm. “Yes,” she answers a little belatedly. “It was boring really. Just hung out with my cat. Exciting stuff. How about yours, sir?”

He hums distractedly for a moment as he looks over the files. “Good, very good. You know, Daniel came home this weekend. If I would’ve known you were just sitting there alone, I would’ve suggested you come over for dinner.”

“Sir,” Ophelia begins kindly, “I would have appreciated the offer. However, Deb- your wife, always seems to get a little-“ She breaks off, waving her hand in the air.

“Reminiscent?” He finishes with a smirk, “I know. You know how Debora is though. She adored both of you together.”

Ophelia mentally winces. The past relationship she had with her boss’s son gets brought up every once in a while. Her and Daniel dated their last two years of high school, into their first two years of college, before realizing that their relationship was more along the lines of best friends during that last year. Nothing explicit happened; no cheating, no lying or explosive fight. It just fizzled out towards the end and they came to the same conclusion, talked it about and agreed to break up. It was mutual, it was the least painful breakup she has ever had.

Daniel’s mother was sure they would get married. Ophelia couldn’t bear to see the disappointment on her face anymore when she still invited over for dinners. Eventually, even after Daniel convince Ophelia that it was alright, and his mom would stop asking when they would get back together, she stopped going to those dinners.

However, he was her first love and it did last four years, and although they remained good friends, they still hold a soft spot in each other’s hearts. It never extends into romance again, no drunken nights of “I miss you, just one more time”, nothing like that ever happened. The one night when they did get wasted, it was filled with Daniel gushing about the girl in his Foreign Affairs class. Last Ophelia heard was that Daniel and that girl were still dating, and Ophelia hasn’t seen him in almost a year.

“I know, sir. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out, I guess. She knows we’re still good friends though.”

“I think she’s holding onto the hope of a reunion. I, on the other hand, know when to take a loss.”

Ophelia laughs, taking that as an out to change the subject. “All the files are in order from date and relevance. I’m stilling proofing those policies but if you need anything else, just let me know. Shall I order lunch for the meeting?

“That would be wonderful, if you don’t mind.” He responds with gratitude, opening the first file. “Thank you, Ms. Phoenix. You are a valuable asset here.”

She smiles proudly. “Thank you, sir.” She’s about to turn away, when she remembers something. 

“Oh, before I forget, the new letterheads that were ordered came in. Whoever filled in for me when I was out didn’t bother to check if the correct official seal or spelling was used. The label was distorted and there was a typo in your name.” Ophelia rubs her lips together to contain the small bubble of a giggle in her throat.

“How bad?”

“Well, I was only gone for a week, but I’m sure an Alexandra Price didn’t suddenly take over as the U.S. Secretary of Defence. Spelled, D-E-F-E-N-C-E.”

He releases a heavy sigh before a goodhearted smile flashes on his face. “See, this is what happens when you go on vacation, Ophelia.”

Ophelia chuckles at that, pulling out the first page in the second file to tap the seal. “I assure you it’s all fixed. Alexander Pierce, U.S. Secretary of Defense, clear seal and all.”

“I knew there’s a reason I’ve kept you around.”

“That, and I know all your secrets,” She jokes, turning and waving as she exits the conference room. She misses the slow smirk spreading across his lips as the door closes.

“Of that, you don’t, Ms. Phoenix.”

*********************************************************************

A/N *insert sly eyed emoji here*

Previous   Chapter Four

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[fushichoumomo-arch]

🕯️ & also one for miss irys 💙

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐖 , 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐘 .

❝ … Irys Gryf … that's a name that I certainly won't forget so soon .  Tch .  Nor is that an encounter I will forget for the remainder of my days . The clipping of my wings . Unforgivable . Even now , I find myself digging my digits into the flesh of my battered arms at the thought of that … failure . ----- That woman is a Quincy , and from what I have gathered … a Lieutenant , just as I used to be .

... And just like myself ; she seems … rather devoted to her Captain , following his orders without question . They seem to have a good rapport . They remind me … of those carefree , happy days back in the Fifth … when all I needed to concern myself with was training new recruits and assisting Captain Aizen with his paperwork . ------ That era … seems so long ago , even though it's only been three years . Can three years really change a person that much … ? If yes ----- then who will I be in the future , when all is said and done … ? ------- Will there even be a future for me , should Irys Gryf's [ and the Wandenreich's ] goals come to fruition … ? -------- NO . Now is NOT the time to sulk . I WILL find a way to use this predicament to my advantage . Irys Gryf may have my wings ------- but they don't belong to her . They will NEVER belong to her . These worlds ------- and all the Souls , Humans and Arrancar in them ------- do not , and will NEVER belong to the Quincy . THAT THRONE IN THE SKY DOES NOT BELONG TO THEM . ❞ 

[spiderfan22]

COCKSUCKER BLUES by DJS

As promised, here is the play in its entirety. Inspired by the Robert Frank documentary of the same name.

I own nothing.

 1.

Backstage 1972. Someone tunes a guitar. There is a table with food that a couple groupies hang around.

Charlie has his drumsticks.

CHARLIE            There’s a thing I do. Like to do. For when I’m a bit stressed. Calms me down. A method you might call it.

                             What you do is you clench your fists – both your fists – and hold ‘em out in front of you. Like this.

                             If you’d like to try it too, by all means. But both fists out in front of you. You can squeeze as much or as little as you like. Whatever you’re comfortable.

                             Now imagine in one hand you’ve got a flower. Can be any kind you want. I always picture a rose – a white rose specifically. Don’t know why, that’s just what pops into my mind.

                             Now in the other hand imagine there’s a candle. Just your normal candle, lit. And what you’re gonna do is is you’re gonna breathe in the flower. – Breathe in the smell of the flower, a nice deep breath, a nice long inhale. Like so.

He demonstrates.

                             Then you just breathe, breathe out. And blow out the candle. You breathe out blowing out the candle, your imaginary, in the process. Nice long breath out.

                             It’s a breathing exercise. For your heart. To get you back in the right rhythm.

Pause.

                             Girl taught me that. Don’t remember her name.

 2.

Mick is being interviewed by an American Reporter.

REPORTER   Do you have any children?

MICK No. Not as yet.

REPORTER   Does that mean you want children?

MICK What makes you say that?

Chuckles to himself.

           I don’t don’t want children. Just haven’t met the right girl have I?

REPORTER   Imagine you have your pick.

MICK Can.

REPORTER   Are you just not ready to settle down?

MICK You could say that.

REPORTER   Having too much fun?

MICK You could say that too.

REPORTER         How has the tour been so far? Are you finding America much changed since you were last here?

MICK                   No, it’s great. As always. We love the states.

REPORTER         Do you have a favorite region?

MICK                   Region?

REPORTER         A certain area of the country –

MICK                   Down south, yeah.

REPORTER         And what is it about the south?

MICK                   Well that’s where your music comes from, all your best stuff doesn’t it?

REPORTER         You’re talking about the blues.

MICK                   Blues, rock n’ roll.

REPORTER         What about Elvis Presley?

MICK                   What about him?

REPORTER         Well isn’t it sad how he’s deteriorated over the last few years?

MICK                   Has he? I didn’t notice.

REPORTER         Are you still a fan of his?  

MICK                   Course I am. Why wouldn’t I be? I mean just because a guy might have lost a step or two, what is that, why would that change anything?

REPORTER         But would you say he’s been an influence on you? On your songwriting?

MICK                   Sure. Everything I’ve ever heard.

REPORTER         You don’t find that to be a generalizing statement?

MICK                   What

REPORTER         That you were influenced by all music?

MICK                   No.

                             Not if it’s true.

REPORTER         So you like all music.

MICK                   I didn’t say that. Did I say that?

REPORTER         No but you implied –

MICK                   No, you implied. You took it the wrong way. You guys are always taking – people are always using what we said against us. And let me tell you it’s frustrating.

REPORTER         How many more dates on this leg of the tour?

MICK                   Leg? I don’t know. Did someone ask you if you want something to drink?

REPORTER         I’m good, thank you.

MICK                   I don’t drink coffee. Americans love it for some reason.

REPORTER         I suppose they do.

MICK                   I suppose they do.

REPORTER         Getting back to your new album Exile on Main Street –

MICK                   Yeah, why don’t we.

 3.

Hotel swimming pool. The floor opens up and the groupies take off their clothes and dive in.

DIRECTOR    Can we do an underwater shot? Do we have the equipment for that?

CAMERA       We can. We can order it. We can get it in.

DIRECTOR    About how long are we talking for something like that?

CAMERA       I don’t know, end of the week?

DIRECTOR    What about – can we rig something in the meantime?

CAMERA             You’d risk damaging the camera and exposing the film. It’s a specially built plexiglass case we’re talking about –

DIRECTOR          No I understand that, I understand that. I’m just inquiring if we can do it ourselves.

CAMERA             Can I be honest, what’s the rush?

Director doesn’t answer.

DIRECTOR    What about 8mm?

CAMERA       Well yeah, but it’s the same problem.

DIRECTOR          But I’m saying what’s an 8mm camera cost? If it doesn’t work, if the film gets ruined then we don’t really lose anything. I just really wanna get this shot.

CAMERA             And it can’t wait?

DIRECTOR          Do you ever – do you ever get inspired? Dream? Or is that – is everything technical to you? Yes and no? Binary?

CAMERA             You’re being dramatic.

DIRECTOR          No I’m not, I’m just illustrating a point.

CAMERA             And your point -

DIRECTOR          That I’m an artist and you’re clearly not. You’re a technician.

CAMERA             I never claimed I was.

DIRECTOR          Yes but you’re supposed to help me, your job function is to facilitate in my vision. To make it happen. Your job is to say Yes.

CAMERA             My job is about reality. Capturing reality. And there are certain limitations.

DIRECTOR          You will rig me something, you will go back to the truck and you will use whatever materials, you will build me a box that can house a camera so it survives underwater, so it’s ready to go tonight. We get this shot tonight.

They stare at each other for a long time.

CAMERA             I’m gonna need an hour.

DIRECTOR          I’ll find some way to amuse myself. Go.

Cameraman exits.

 4.

The boys arrive. They party by the pool. Someone falls in and has to be rescued. Documentary cameras film it all.

 5.

Mick in a spotlight playing bluesy harmonica solo interspersed with the following lyrics:

MICK Girl wanna know where it is

           She wanna know what it is

           Reach down and

           Reach down and find you something girl

           Find you something girl

           Find find

           Reach down and find it

           Tell me what you find

If you find if you find

If you feel something girl

Tell me if you feel something girl

Because I wanna know

I wanna know

She wanna know

If you feel something girl

If you wanna feel something girl

Hard

Hard

Hard

Hard

 6.

Backstage. Keith on the periphery of some drug activity.

Dialogue overlaps:

Come on in. Come on. Plenty for everybody. You want another? What did you think it would feel like?

Nothing, just different.

Like I was them.

This is your first time? Do you want another?

What’s the primary impulse?

You want another? Have another.

You can’t do too much.

Plenty for everybody.

This was your first time?

Virgin.

Virgin.

Look she liked it. The way you don’t move.

Yeah.

How do you like it? How did you like it?

Different, it was different.

Different to how, how you imagined?

It would be yeah.

Some more?

No. No I’m think, I think I’m good for now.

Don’t pressure her, man.

I’m not I’m just explaining.

If she wants to she wants to.

I’m not. But she’s gonna want some later that’s all I’m saying. So she might as well do it now.

What do I owe you?

The nose knows.

The nose knows, man.

Laughter. This phrase “The nose knows” gets repeated like a mantra or inside joke and cracks everyone up.

Keith comes over and they set up a big line for him. He snorts it. Reels.

           There he is. There he goes.

Cut to black. An amplified voice says:

           WHAT IS THE PRIMARY IMPULSE?

 7. Hotel room.

BEARD          If you had a million dollars you still couldn’t buy enough coke.

GIRL 1           You think?

BEARD          Not to get addicted.

GIRL 1           You can’t get hooked on it?

BEARD          No, I’m saying: you’d have to have more of it than you could even do.

GIRL 1           You wouldn’t have enough money.

BEARD          Precisely.

GIRL 1           To do so much –

BEARD          You’d have to have piles of it, mountains.

GIRL 1           That’s a lot of coke.

BEARD          Which is why I never worry.

GIRL 1           You do a lot. I’ve seen you.

BEARD          I don’t do a lot, I do enough. The expense is only money.

GIRL 1           Yeah but where’s the money come from?

BEARD                See? That’s why it’s good to be on the supply end of things. Problem takes care of itself.

GIRL 1                 Do you think I could get a ride to Phoenix? Are you going on with the tour?

BEARD                Remains to be seen. I’d like to, but I have some prior commitments.

GIRL 1                 Where do you live?

BEARD                Hollywood. West Hollywood.

GIRL 1                 I’m from Torrance.

                             Do you know any movie stars?

BEARD                If they like to party, yeah we’ve probably come in contact.

GIRL 1                 Who’s like the most famous person you’ve “come into contact with”?

BEARD                I don’t – John Wayne?

GIRL 1                 John Wayne does –

BEARD                Nah I just saw him at a movie premiere once. I used to work at the Grauman’s Chinese Theater, as an usher.

GIRL 1                 I never been there.

BEARD                Maybe I could take you sometime, see the footprints.

GIRL 1                 That’d be cool.

BEARD                Would you wanna go? Can I get your number? Do you still live at home?

Girl 1 nods. He gives her drugs. She snorts.

GIRL 1                 But I’m gonna move out soon.

BEARD                Get your own place.

GIRL 1                 I wanna be a actress.

 8. We’re back at the pool.

Mick Taylor pops out of the water. He is interviewed by the side of the pool.

INTERVIEW       Since coming on, have you noticed a change in the band? Has the group dynamic itself changed? How have things shifted? Are you able to assert some kind of authority or style on the band? Is this change for the better or the worse you think? What’s your relationship like with Keith? Is there a healthy competition there? Do you think you ever might supplant him as a creative force? How deep does the rivalry go, and is that healthy? Have you had much input into the songwriting process? Would you like more? Are you content? To what level are you content? Or is discontent a good thing for an artist? How do you find the road? Is it hard being away from your wife and daughter for so long? Can we address the temptations inherent in such a lifestyle? Do you find yourself easily succumbing?

MICK T                Do I find myself what?

INTERVIEW       Easily succumbing. Can we talk about the quote-unquote groupie situation? Do you partake? Can we talk about the drug situation? Do you partake? Or do you consider it as part of your role to be the sober level-headed one, the stabilizing influence in the group, a role model of sorts, as opposed to the more hedonistic exploits of Mick & Keith? Do you feel an obligation to refrain as it were, to help rehabilitate the band’s image? Do you consider yourself to be the quiet one, how George was the quiet one? The quiet brooding one? The mature one? Where do you go from here? Where does the group go from here? What’s left? When you’re playing the biggest venues in the world, selling them out night after night, well, eventually you have to come down don’t you? Eventually there must be a fall? Or price to pay for such success? How many years do you think the band has left? How many good years? Or is it running out of steam as we speak? Are you immune to all this fame? Is the money really that good? I heard you were all in debt, I heard the tax situation was rather grim. Or was that only the original members? Can you comment on this? Can you comment on that? Can you see through it? Can you be objective to the fact that nothing lasts forever? Have you set aside any money for retirement? Can rock stars like yourselves age gracefully or is it all for not in the end? Exactly how old are you?

Mick T doesn’t say anything. Instead he spits water in the interviewer’s face. Playfully.

 9. Outside stadium. A local TV news crew talks to fans waiting to get inside.

TV                         Can you rate your level of excitement to see the Rolling Stones tonight on a scale of 1 to 10?

Ad-lib excited responses, “we love the Stones” “I’ve seen them however many times”

                             Was anyone at Altamont?

More ad-lib responses, “it was crazy” “I was right there, I saw them kill that guy” etc.

FANATIC            There’s like no security. Anybody could get in and just do anything. That’s what they don’t think about.

TV                         Were you at Altamont?

FANATIC            No but I wish I had been.

HYPE MAN  cutting in          Hey man! Hey! Hey, the guy you should be talking to is my friend over here boy!

TV                         Your friend? Who –?

HYPE MAN         He’s selling tickets man, he’ll hook you up. Front row, whatever you want. Ask him.

TV                         Is that right? Are you a scalper?

SCALPER            No

HYPE MAN         Oh he’s lying! We been out here all afternoon, made about two thousand so far. Tell him, man.

He doesn’t want to get in trouble with the police.

TV                         And how are you connected with –?

HYPE MAN         See what I do is, my job I go around the parking lot, round the crowd and see who needs what. Then I direct them to my man here for the exchange.

TV                         Uh-huh. Two thousand dollars. That must be quite the mark-up.

SCALPER            I really don’t want to be on TV.

 10. Hotel suite. Bianca Jagger is being fitted for a dress.

Mick stands around with his bathrobe open giving everyone a good view of his cock.

There is a strange pause before the scene begins like they are waiting for the director to call “Action”.

BIANCA        So where were we? Where’d we leave off?

MICK Something about a book I think?

BIANCA        Like there wasn’t anything more relevant to talk about.

MICK                  What do you want eh? This is supposed to be the domestic – the happy newlyweds and all that.

Bianca side-eyes the audience.

BIANCA              Years later in an interview someone will ask me when did I know my marriage was over. To which I’ll respond, tartly: “On my wedding day, love.”

           Isn’t that so terribly witty?

DRESSER      Hold still please, Miss Jagger.

She looks at the dresser. Seems to regard him.

BIANCA              Fag.

DRESSER            Excuse me?

BIANCA              No I’m just confirming. You’re a fag, right? You sleep with men?

DRESSER     Oh, well, some men, dearie. I have to admit to being a bit choosy.

BIANCA              What about my husband? Forget he’s a rock star, forget he’s famous, and rich. Do you fancy him? I mean in the abstract.

Mick tries to hide his interest in the answer to this question.

DRESSER            Well, I don’t know. He’d do in a pinch I guess. But there’s not much to him is there? All skin and bones. I really prefer a more traditionally masculine, you know the macho type. And he’s sort of flouncy isn’t he?

                             I can see his cock.

BIANCA              Because he wants you to. Because he’s proud of it.

DRESSER            Circumcised.

BIANCA              Yes. He’s the first man I was ever with who had that done to him.

DRESSER            Well surely it wasn’t his choice, he didn’t have a say in the matter.

BIANCA              Are they not reversible?

DRESSER    stifling a laugh   Came as a shock did it?

BIANCA              Oh it came all right. Only too quick. Bit of a recurring problem there.

They laugh. They laugh at Mick, who ties his robe closed and sulks.

DRESSER            So you’re saying you married him for his money.

BIANCA              Yes, I’m afraid.

DRESSER            Well there are worse things, more pathetic.

BIANCA              There are? Like what?

DRESSER            Well, you could have married for love. Sheer love! What lunacy! And that would have been really tragic.

BIANCA              Yes I suppose it’s smart of me to not have made that mistake.

                             But what if one person marries for money and the other for love? What then?

DRESSER            Oh, you’re doomed regardless, dearie, we all are. Love is a long-since abandoned thing, at least in its pure form. We’ve stripped it back, mined it, you know? People just use it for a tool now. A blunt instrument to inflict pain on each other. Which let’s be honest can be a bit of fun, provided you’re not on the receiving end.

Bianca is suddenly sad. Mick has left the room.

                             Are you. Are those tears? Are you crying, dear? Don’t tell me I’ve upset you.

She shakes her head violently “no, no, no” and tries to pull away from him.

DRESSER      My god I have. Ohhh.

He holds her for comfort.

           Ohhh. I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

He doesn’t let her go.

           But it’s the truth.

 Images. We are shown short bursts of activity, like vignettes, just long enough to get the point across:

11. A naked woman walks down a hotel corridor, stumbling every couple steps.

12. Int. car. Some of the boys, Mick and Charlie, Bianca, along with a bodyguard.. Everyone is having a good time passing a joint back and forth. Another car passes on the highway. The rest of the band – Keith, Mick T and Bill Wyman shout from the windows.

13. Hotel bathroom. The same naked woman in front a mirror. Her chest and stomach are covered in a sticky white substance – which she proceeds to rub into her skin.

14. Close up of a tight pair of leather pants with a big bulge. Hand comes into frame and rubs the budge, making it harder.

15. Extreme close on the woman’s finger as she brings a dollop of the white sticky substance to her lips and licks it with her tongue.

LATE NIGHT VOICE          The icing on the cake, ladies and gentlemen!

Sound of canned audience laughter continues over:

16. Keith and Charlie dislodge a hotel TV from its stand and throw it off a balcony. We see this two times; once from the guys’ perspective, the second time from the parking lot below. Just as the TV is about to land on us, crushing us –

Cut to black.

 17. Pool hall.

In a stunning feat of theatrical showmanship, a pool (billiards) table rises from out of the water of the hotel swimming pool. The floor closes back around it. The band is here hanging out, drinking, smoking. Charlie takes on an old Black Man.

BLACK MAN            So you play the drums huh?

Charlie just smiles as he lines up a shot.

Heard you were pretty good. Keep a good beat. That’s the main thing. Nothing too showy. But reliable. The backbone.

Charlie nods. Makes the shot. Lines up another.

Like to play pool too huh? You do that back home? Thas England right? They got pool halls back there? Where’d you learn? Got a nice touch, real delicate. Only the pros know that. Now I’m thinking you might be sneaky, taking me for a ride. But I fell for it – so who am I to complain?

Charlie misses his next shot.

           My turn I guess.

Mick and Keith have cornered an Old Blues Man they know, trying to convince him to join them onstage tonight.

MICK One song.

BLUES MAN I don’t know. You young guys…I might not be able to keep up.

MICK Just come out. Any song you want, we mean it.

KEITH            Grew up listening to your stuff.

MICK There’ll be GIRL 1s.

BLUES MAN   big laugh       What do you want me to have a heart attack?

Mick and Keith double-over laughing.

 18. Backstage before a show. Impromptu jam session. Acoustic guitars. Charlie drums on a coffee table. This is the only time we will see the whole band play together.

 19. A moment of violence. Everyone runs away as: the floor suddenly opens up causing the pool table to crash into the water. The water isn’t deep enough for it to sink completely.

Silence. Then everyone pretends like nothing happened and goes back to what they were doing.

We watch the boys get ready for the show.

They dress.

They tell jokes.

They do drugs.

They drink.

They meet-and-greet VIPs, celebrities – Andy Warhol, Dick Cavett, Truman Capote.

Eventually it’s time to go out there, and we watch them do that too – one by one leaving the room.

The year is 1972.

We’re somewhere in America.

And these were The Rolling Stones.

 21. Camera films the marquee outside a venue. Pans down to the sidewalk where a long line of fans waits to get in.

Light shift/jump cut –

We find a girl on the street. 19 years old. She doesn’t look well.

CAMERA       50 dollars?

GIRL 2                 Sure. I’m a poor orphan. My parents hate my guts, so I have nothing else to live for except the group that’ll make me happy. I’m a very sad lonesome person…you know? It’s a terrible thing, they took my child away from me because I was on acid. What’s wrong with…what’s wrong with a mother that’s on acid and like, loves her child?? Then the state comes along and takes my kid away ‘cause…because I take acid. She was born on acid! It blows my mind, I don’t know what to say.

CAMERA       But the concert makes you happy?

GIRL 2                 Yeah. It’s the only thing I want to see. I’ll… man, I’ll go kill myself if I don’t get in there. Go jump off a bridge, I don’t care. My life’s already half-wrecked.

Lights slowly fade on Girl 2 as she turns and walks away.

The projector goes out. The film is over. Roll credits over “Mother’s Little Helper”.

End of play.

[blueeyesandasmile]

LOS ANGELES—Ask Jake Gyllenhaal about his idea of luxury and unwinding, and the playful actor in him comes alive. “My idea of luxury is Cartier,” he replied, suddenly posing as if for a commercial cameraman, soulful eyes looking straight at you, while showing off his Santos watch by Cartier, for which he is an endorser.

“Cartier and Calvin Klein, the sort of scent of Eternity, those are my two ideas of luxury,” added a smiling Jake, who is also in the ad campaign of the fragrance. He continued to strike a pose as if modeling for an ad photo shoot, holding up his left wrist to display the signature watch.

“And I also have a very important and strange obsession with pillows,” he continued, on a roll now. He was laughing. “Pillows are very important. I don’t think that pillows are given enough credit, honestly.  There. I said it—I am obsessed with pillows. And unwinding. Obviously, I have answered both questions in one. Pillows are really where I like to unwind.”

“Have you dated any pillows?” Jake asked aloud, grinning now. “The answer to that is yes, I actually have. I probably have too many pillows. I have about six pillows on my bed. And after the past hour of talking about it, that will be the only thing that you will write about.  That’s fine. Six pillows.”

Since his “The Sisters Brothers” director is Jacques Audiard, we inquired if he speaks French. Speaking with a French accent and pretending to hold a cigarette, the actor in Jake was in full mode now: “Yeah, I speak French a little bit. I can speak French better when I am trying to speak English. I joke with Jacques and he is like, ‘Do you want a cigarette?’ I am like, ‘I can smoke like this. I am very nervous.’”

In “The Sisters Brothers,” a western dark comedy set in California’s Gold Rush in the late 19th century, Jake has a lot of screen time again with Riz Ahmed, his costar in Dan Gilroy’s “Nightcrawler.”

“Yes, I bring Riz—nothing is possible without me,” he quipped with a laugh. The Oscar and Golden Globe nominee was obviously in a particularly good mood today.

“No, Riz read with Jacques,” he clarified. “Riz is so Riz, so apparently he missed the meeting with Jacques because he overslept. Riz will never stop oversleeping, no matter how successful he gets (laughs). He auditioned for Jacques for the role, then it was just this surprise to the two of us that we were working together again. It’s a funny surprise.

“But I am hoping for one more film with Riz so that I can get it f**king over with because that will be three in a row and we will never have to work together again. No, but it was pretty cool. We donned different costumes and our characters had a different type of relationship. And we worked together again so intimately.”

Joaquin Phoenix and John C. Reilly portray the titular siblings in “The Sisters Brothers.”

Jake, who was once reported to be in the running for the Spider-Man role if Tobey Maguire did not return for “Spider-Man 2,” will at last get to be in a movie about the web-slinging hero. But as the villain, Quentin Beck/Mysterio, in Tom Holland’s return as Spidey, “Spider-Man: Far From Home.”

“I have always been fascinated with that type of storytelling,” Jake said about the superhero genre. “I am totally into it, excited by it, but I can’t say anything about it.”

He did say that he did not read comic books as a kid. “Nope. But that idea of Spider-Man has always been rattling around in my unconscious. I think it’s rattling around in all of our unconscious—the idea of heroes and superheroes has become a really fascinating topic right now.

“Marvel is doing pretty incredible stuff, particularly taking pretty bold steps. They have taken a bold one with this one, too. As you know, I am always into doing something, but it’s really what the story is about. This one is pretty cool, and that is all I can say. And Tom Holland is pretty great, too.”

Jake is also in preproduction for director Cary Joji Fukunaga’s “The American,” where he will play Leonard Bernstein, one of America’s great composers.

“I developed this story about Bernstein for basically the past five years,” said Jake, who is producing the film adaptation of Humphrey Burton’s biography of the man behind the music of “West Side Story.” “I started my production company and the first project that we began with, and the character that I have always wanted to do, was that character. So we developed it over five years.

“The idea first came to me when I was working with Sam Mendes on ‘Jarhead.’ I told Sam about it, and he loved that idea.  Then, I didn’t do anything about that, and that was 15 years ago. But I find Bernstein so indelibly fascinating as a character and a contradiction—the search for identity that is truly American and Jewish.

“And being Jewish myself, I find him to be an extraordinary figure. I don’t know how everything will go and evolve.”

Bradley Cooper is also set to star in another Bernstein project, written by Josh Singer, which will be his follow-up directing job after his acclaimed filmmaking debut, “A Star Is Born.”

“It’s this strange situation that came up with both movies at the same time,” Jake commented. “I just want Bernstein’s story told in the most honest, beautiful way. He is one of America’s best and most revered artists. It’s like what do you do when two competing projects are up at the same time, and when you have two very interesting possibilities.

“All I can say is, I just want to see Bernstein’s story, whatever it is and whatever incarnation it’s told because I have loved it for a long time. He is incredible.”

Of his memories working on “Brokeback Mountain” with Ang Lee and the late, much-missed Heath Ledger, Jake reminisced, “There are lots of memories from that. The idea of the western changed a bit once that movie came out. The idea of masculinity and sexuality, because of that movie and what it said, made filmmakers go like, whoa.

“I remember us all starting the film and we were all living in our trailers right by this river in Calgary. It was Ang in one, me in one, and Heath and Michelle in one and a couple of other crew members living in this one place. Some of the fondest memories I have is getting up in the morning and one of us making coffee or breakfast for everyone else.

“Ang would walk over to set, then the actors would slowly walk over to set. There was a community and a real easy simple process that I think we complicate in making movies. I think that is in that film.”

E-mail rvnepales_5585@yahoo.com. Follow him at http://twitter.com/nepalesruben.

[mariamuses]

Wingspan

Word Count: 1188 (I wanted it to be short but I guess I have no self control)

Lettering Masterlist

Writing Masterlist

My AO3

Read this on AO3

A/N: Hey so I saw a post about whose was the biggest wingspan and this came to mind so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

Azriel had somehow ended up stuck in the same discussion that always came up when the Illyrians were together. He really shouldn’t have been that surprised.

“Mine is bigger”, said Rhys, spreading out his wings to see the full extent of them.

“In your dreams, little prince. We all know mine is the biggest wingspan of them all”, shot back Cassian, mirroring Rhys’ previous action to compare between both, pressing his back and wings to Rhys’ ones. “Azriel, you can see them together. Whose is bigger? Mine right? That little bastard doesn’t even come up to my talons, ha!”

Azriel didn’t even bother to go near them. Instead, he gave in to his pride, something he almost never did, and crossed his arms, making himself frown to show the smallest glimpse of anger to his brothers.

“And why can’t it be mine? How come I always get overlooked?” he questioned, making his brothers feel a little guilty for not even considering in all the times they had done this that his wingspan might be bigger.

Realization dawned on them and they immediately started apologizing.

“No! Az is not that –“

“Yeah we didn’t… You’ve never –“

He raised a hand and shut them up, spreading his wings out, grabbing Cassian by his forearms and turning him around, ordering him to do the same. Then he turned around, both of them being back to back, and slowly walking backwards until both their wings were touching the other’s.

Rhys walked forwards, grabbing the edges of both wingspans carefully and accurately pinning them together with his magic. Then he went and did the same on the other side, and when he was finished, he stared at the results.

“So? Whose is bigger?” impatiently asked Cassian, barely containing his excitement.

Rhysand shook his head, even if they couldn’t see it, and said, “Actually… You have the exact same wingspan. Down to the millimeter.”

“Not possible. It can’t be”, refused Cassian again, breaking the magic strings tying his wings to Azriel’s. “You don’t know how to do this, you ass. Here –“ he said motioning for Rhys to do the same he had just done, but with Azriel. “This is how you do it”, he explained, following the same steps Rhys had just done moments ago. When he finished, a frown drew on his brow.

“It can’t be. Not the three of us”, he muttered under his breath,, cursing the Cauldron.

“Wait”, asked Az, “ours is the same too?”

Cassian nodded, stupor clearly etched on his face.

Silence followed for a few seconds, only for hell to break loose again, the same dilemma rising all over again, like a phoenix from the ashes.

A HUNDRED YEARS LATER

“Okay, okay, kids. Gather up!” called Cassian.

A collective groan escaped from the all the kids’ mouths. They weren’t kids anymore, all of them past 18.

“Daaad… For the thousandth time: WE DON’T WANT TO DO THIS”, said Akin, Cassian’s son.

“Yeah, uncle Cass. We don’t believe that rumour”, declared Azriel’s son, Kunal, rolling his eyes while he kept his face on the book he was reading.

“Besides, if we did, what would it mean about me?” inquired Rhys’ dauther Nysa. “Or would you have me not do it because I’m a girl?”

The three illyrians rubbed confusedly the back of their necks, an looking at each other for an answer.

“Of course not, Nyssie. You do it with them. It’s just a stupid game”, assured her Rhys.

“Then why do we have to do it?” countered Kunal, eyes still fixed on his book.

Azriel kneeled by the chair his son sat in and gently pried the book from his hands.

“Please Kuni? We made a bet when all of you were babies and if you do this, we won’t bother you anymore.”

“So we’re just toys for you to play with?” shot back again Kunal, a smug look on his face, eyes now locked to his fathers’.

“Never. We just think that now that you’re all old enough for your growth to have stop, it would be cool to know. But, if you feel like we’re using you, you don’t have to do it”, he stopped and look at the other two, “Any of you.”

The three kids sighed and said in unison, “Fine. But if we win we give you a punishment.”

The ‘adults’ started cheering and whistling, promptly grabbing their offspring’s arms and encouraging them to spread their wingspans.

One by one, they measured the children against each other, and dread crept into their faces.

Smirking, Akin asked, feigning ignorance, “What’s wrong?”

Kunal and Nysa joined him and questioned if anything was off.

The three baffled brothers looked at their kids and finally Cassian answered, “All your wingspans are the same. Just like ours are.”

“Oh! Are they?” slyly asked Nysa. “And can we compare yours with ours? It only has to be one of you, since they’re all the same. Same for ours.”

The man shot each other worried glances, but their pride got the best of them and they caved in.

“Yes, yes. At least we can have a bigger wingspan than our kids…” muttered Rhys, summoning his wife to measure fairly the wings.

What they were not expecting was the three mothers showing up, interested in what was going on.

“Okay, who’s going?”

Nysa’s hand shot up at the same time Azriel’s did, so both got in the middle of the circle the others had formed around them.

“Wings out, contestants” ordered Nesta in her best performance voice.

They did and Nesta compared the both of them like the other millions of times his husband had made her do.

After following the steps, cheers and groans could be heard, but the pair in the center wasn’t able to distinguish where they were coming from, if they lost or won, so they started running around like chickens without a head.

“WHAT?! WHAT?!”, screamed Azriel and Nysa, desperately looking for their teammates faces, hoping to find a smile on them.

Simultaneously, Nysa started laughing and Azriel buried his head on his hands.

After a few more minutes of really loud noise, Kunal cleared his voice and cupping his hand around his mouth, declared:

“At long last, these proud illyrian have found their match: their own sons and daughters. From now on, this eternal dispute shall be finished – no more comparisons between you – and should you ever do it, a tattoo will appear on your ‘lower wingspan’ saying ‘smaller than my son/daughter’ until you confess what you’ve done to us, and then the bargain will begin all over again.”

Cries of indignation rose from the fathers, but the mothers and offspring burst in laugh at the great idea.

Let’s just say, there were a few times the Illyrians didn’t get laid at night because their mates refused to let that reminder of their children’s wingspan near their most precious parts, scarring their minds forever. This stopped when their wives stopped altogether having any kind of interaction until they swore to stop it.

Begrudgingly, they eventually stopped measuring themselves.

After all, it was only a legend.

Tags: @howtotameyourillyrian @imprecisemagic @cerridwxn @mywritingbox@acotarandhisbrothers @court-0f-dreamers @realmorrigan @queen-archeron @highladyfxyre @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @tacmc @urbisie @court-0f-dreamers-main @fiery-feyre @wingsofanillyrian @the-bookish-soul @bryaxisthefaceofnightmares @keladrym99thefangirl @elide-lochan-salvaterre @just-your-average-ravenpuff @librarian-of-velaris  @empress-ofbloodshed @rhysand-highlord @thedeliciouscollectoreagleposts@sahibookworm @ourbooksuniverse @stars-wholisten @tntwme@kickassunicorn @suziechu @thelaughingzeebra @unicornbooks@ame233 @throne-of-wingspans @passports-and-postagestamps @thereitisthatfamousscowl @acourtof-painandfeels @dreamingofalba @wolffrising

[allthereclists]

Kastle Fics

Daredevil

oh what a marvellous sight by mind_boggling 455

a small excerpt based on that moment from the new trailer.

My Moment of Clarity by spellitwithyourpeas 902 

She didn't believe it was the end. God, she hoped it wasn't...that somehow they could come back from this.

weak knees by samssalvation 968 

karen tripping and falling into frank's arms

Dream A Little Dream of Me by helpme_iminlove 1,074 

She gave the small crowd a smile, her red lips parting to dazzle him with her teeth, and then the band had picked up a tune. Frank would be lying if he said he hadn’t held his breath waiting for her to start singing.

Two Cups of Coffee by yoncepadthai 1,676 

Months since the last time she and Frank drank coffee together, Karen debates returning to the diner.

lost and fought by SafelyCapricious 3,179 

Karen hasn't slept in far too long, trying to chase leads about this gang-cult, when her dead mentor appears in her apartment and chaos descends. She doesn't think it's due to sleep deprivation.

I Know What it Takes to Fool this Town byspellitwithyourpeas 3,726

James Wesley may be dead, but the weight of that night still is heavy. She feels the pressure build and the panic set in. She wants to move on and maybe with some help she could. If anybody can understand her actions, it'd be Frank Castle.

bloodsport by PurpleLex 5,041

[ two-part tumblr prompt: "A baddie is threatening/hurting Karen in front of a tied up Frank. And he's raging?" ]

is it too late to come on home? by volchitza 9,347

Karen worries her thumb with her index fingernail, absentmindedly picking at her skin. The azure glow of her laptop screen reflects on her face in the dark of her silent office; it's too late for anybody else at the Bulletin, but Karen doesn't feel at home anywhere much these days. The Word document she has open on the screen is blinking regularly at her, as if expecting to be filled, but she has no words to describe the emptiness eating away at her from the inside, scratching at her, digging a hollow in her middle, little by little, with every aimless step she takes, every time she sits at her desk and feels further and further from the person she was before. She doesn't know how to inhabit this new paradigm of her life: a new job, a new house, without her old friends and their evenings at Josie's. A new Karen, changed, in ways she hasn't yet explored.

Try and Try Again by silbecoo 18,544 

The night after the Punisher's funeral Karen is approached by a strange woman and given the opportunity to change the past and give Frank Castle back his future.

Losing Sleep Tonight by PunkyNemo (TheVampireCat) 42,501 wip

She's standing on his doorstep and she's asking for redemption.

He doesn't know if he has any to give.

The Punisher

Sunny Days on Sunday by Study_in_Scarlett 534

Frank and Karen grocery shopping! Or something else painfully domestic

next time by rcmsw 856

“Hey,” he hears in that voice he knows well now, that voice that is, well, something.

Frank turns to see Karen there in the doorway, standing out against the dingy walls and muted colors.

“Hey,” he responds, and feels the smile tug at his lips. He can’t help it. He’s not surprised she managed to find him here, she’s a damn good journalist after all.

Keep the Goddess on my side by Study_in_Scarlett 951

frank distracting karen from writing her article!

elevator by thefudge 959 

The elevator scene, but with a much needed addition.

Explosions have a way of revealing one's priorities byAlison_Ocean 755

"Where does that end?", she’d asked. Where the hell did she think?

Bottom of the Ocean by silbecoo 1,235

Frank has no one left to punish but himself.

Perihelion by evil bunny wolf (evil_bunny_king) 1,567 

“I’ve had, I’ve had a hell of a week, but that, I think, might’ve been part of the worst of it.”

She clears her throat, and then again, drawing her knees in. Her eyes shine a little in the lamplight. “Yeah. I was scared too. For you.”

Three to Five by homesickblues, StellarRequiem 2,064 

Karen and Frank's moment in the elevator as how it felt, not just how it looked, and the silent conversations they had there.

A Perfectly Good Opportunity by A Crimson Phoenix (cw151) 3,960

“Sorry to disappoint but Karen and I are just friends, sweetheart,” he said. “What? Why?” Leo looked at him dumbstruck. “’cos we are,” Frank shot back. “And that’s that. You’re too young to be askin’ me questions like that.” “Not too young to see a perfectly good opportunity when there is one,” Leo murmured back.

Leo is determined to make Karen and Frank happen. A power couple, just like Beyoncé and Jay-Z.

Finding Home by LaMorenaReina 11,733

“Growing up sucks, Leo. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Or: Karen faces the truth of after while trying to live her life. Leo and Karen become friends. Karen and Frank figure some things out.

Best Revenge Is Your Paper by laiqualaurelote 15,581

"Karen." It's Bob, the night copy-editor. "Why haven't you been answering my calls?" "Someone tried to kill me. Now I'm half-dead in a ditch." "Right," says Bob, unimpressed. "You've got queries in your story. Plug them, please." "Want me to shoot him?" inquires Frank. "Jesus!" shouts Karen. "Do not shoot the copy-editors for doing their jobs, Frank!"

In which Karen Page gets a bunch of bylines, pisses off a lot of people, tries not to fall in love with her newsmaker and fails. Spans post-Daredevil Season 2 through The Defenders to post-Punisher Season 1.

The Winter King by Yggdra 26,063

Karen Page is tired of being hurt and threatened. When Wilson Fisk threatens to claw his way back into civilisation, Frank Castle steps in to offer her a safe escape.

Breaking Free (I Feel Violent) by Will_Write_4_Coffee 29,557 

After getting blown up (twice), shot at, held hostage, and saying goodbye to the one person she felt most connected to, Karen Page needed a break... Or so Ellison told her. With Christmas right around the corner, it was shaping up to be a bleak and lonely holiday, until a familiar face shows up...

Loss like the sharp edges of a knife by fandammit 33,605

“Is she a friend?”

He shrugs, though it’s a stiff movement. He knows he should just say yes, because it’s not untrue, because it’s the easiest way to explain what Karen is to him. But it also feels wrong, because friend seems like such an easy word to hold the complicated swirl of emotion he feels when he thinks about Karen. It’s both too much and too little to describe what she is to him -- a person who has been ally and advocate and antagonist all rolled into one, whose name has been both an invocation and affliction, whose memory sets off a warning light behind his eyes and a low, steady burn of longing across his veins.

Frank Castle, after.

Now we're young enough to try to build a better life bytuntekorpp 38,963 wip

Karen said she wanted an after for Frank. Maybe she needs an after for herself too.

AU

Ink & Petals by onebatch2batch 11,261

When Karen Page's grandmother suddenly passes away and leaves her a business to run in an unfamiliar city, she realizes how lonely a place can be. That is, until she develops a crush on the handsome guy that comes into her shop fairly regularly. AU. Rated M for future chapters.

Ordinary People by edourado 13,393 

Best friends who are the Old Married Couple but fail to notice they're falling in love until is too late.

--

wips

your bruises spell my name by samssalvation

after nearly two months apart, karen is certain she will never see frank again. of course, that all changes when her article crosses paths with his war.

The Shadow of Him by Bitumz

He mirrored her darkness and she reflected his past. Where Karen Page chose to go, Frank Castle would have to follow.

When I Look In The Mirror (I See Only You) byPrimarybufferpanel (ArwenLune)

The AU where Frank Castle is the cop who finds Karen moments after she has shot James Wesley, and ends up in a complicated tangle of feels, cats, and aiding and abetting a fugitive despite his best attempts to be a clean, law abiding cop

The Fall by ghoulsngunz

"I need a favor.”

A favor? Karen crossed her arms over her chest. She had to be dreaming. There was no way that after three months of silence the Punisher would be standing in her kitchen asking for a favor. “What kind of favor?”

Frank rubbed his temples. “I need you to help me find my dog.”

Collections

One Batch Per Dozen by silbecoo 

Better Natures by etirabys 

you're a shining star by Dresupi

http://devilbunnyking.tumblr.com/post/168333652819/places-we-dont-know

http://lightofpage.tumblr.com/tagged/kastle+ff/page/19

http://lightofpage.tumblr.com/ficrecs

https://gunpowder-andcoffee.tumblr.com/post/158115244560/hi-there-can-you-maybe-recommend-good-kastle

http://allmyfuckingobsessions.tumblr.com/post/160352343494/any-good-kastle-fic-recs

[tangface-blog]

Business 2 And Don'ts - Some Business Esprit

My cousin and I have been in customer service for over 75 combined years. Not necessarily that we will be that old, nevertheless we obtained our perception early. We all started since salad girls, where we all competed to get the cleanest, maximum, most client ready salad bar. All of us always received! Over the years we now have done teaching, sales, mentoring, marketing, and many more customer-centric services. We have recognized even with a young age of which having fantastic customer service the actual business. It does not take business.

But they keep you doing work in your business. Let me tell you. Houston auto accident lawyer your business is no issue. One of the most important things you can do to be successful. Here is a fantastic tip i actually learned many years ago. Plan at least one or maybe more hours per week to work firmly on your company. Not in it. The time schedule. Houston auto accident lawyer unless you plan to not have the time. It will eventually never happen. Make it continuous time. Ensure there are no other distractions. Disconnect the phone and email. Getting the right environment. Houston auto accident lawyer you can actually and plainly. I think that you do this.

THIS Enjoy Station start had a WAITING LIST! And then, after the orders were achieved, more and more buyers consumed the product. Finally, the buying pattern of the video game consul soldout and they began the same marketing frenzy to each of the video games.

These blog page platforms are the most effective for search engine optimisation purposes. That means, your sites have a higher chance of appearing high in the search engine rankings! In case you are using Wordpress, be sure to mount some seo plugins with regard to better google search visibility. Simply do a search with regard to 'Wordpress SEO plugins' on the search engines to find some good stuff!

Once you are done together with your keyword research for search engine optimization and brief listed just about all phrases it's now time to discover the competition involved with them. The simplest way to analyze competitors is go to any internet search engine and type your key phrase. This will show you number of outcomes return.

And that is to ask them. Supposing vs . inquiring will guarantee a setback virtually every time in your current sales profession. Asking, while you may not such as the answer as least you might be working from the position expertise and not doubt or unfamiliar.

His jersey sales rank ahead of every other active Knicks player. Kids can identify with the brief guy. Seat tickets are selling. Followers fill Madison Square Gardening hoping to get a glimpse regarding what was observed in Phoenix during All-Star end of the week. And Nate has not let down. Since the All-Star break, he's averaging above 25 factors per sport and is a critical candidate with regard to Sixth Man of the Yr.

[flauntpage]

Is Diana Taurasi the Greatest Women's Basketball Player of All Time?

Diana Taurasi's resume reads like that of a video game create-a-player: three NCAA championships at UConn, three WNBA titles with the Mercury, four Olympic gold medals, five WNBA scoring titles, and nine first-team All-WNBA appearances.

To the list, add WNBA all-time leading scorer. Late in the second quarter of the Phoenix Mercury's game against the Los Angeles Sparks on Sunday, Taurasi dribbled around a screen, drove to the basket, and sank an easy lay-up—giving her 7,489 career points, which moved her past Tina Thompson for the league record.

For a decade and a half, Taurasi has been a dominant figure in her sport, a six-foot sharpshooter with incredible instincts and a reputation as a wonderful teammate. Following the 35-year-old's latest accomplishment, it's fair to ask: Is she the greatest women's basketball player of all-time?

The answer, it turns out, is complicated.

Taurasi is certainly a leading candidate for GOAT status. She's a mainstay on lists of the best ever WNBA players and of the best ever women's basketball players, and in 2015 she won ESPN's fan-determined bracket to determine the all-time greatest.

But separating Taurasi from greats of previous decades is difficult. The WNBA has been around only since 1997, so if we want to evaluate players from before its creation, we're stuck with college stats, international records, and anecdotes from short-lived domestic leagues. That makes cross-era comparisons nearly impossible.

"When I look at greatest player of all time, I always just cringe because of differences in opportunity and what we don't know about players," says Mechelle Voepel, an ESPN women's basketball writer. "I don't think you can ever have the conversation without talking about the difference in opportunity."

When the president knows what's up. Photo by Geoff Burke-USA TODAY Sports

Taurasi has been lucky to play her career in the relatively stable WNBA and overseas in high-paying European leagues. Her resume contrasts sharply with that of, say, Cheryl Miller, who dominated at USC in the early 1980s and won a gold medal at the 1984 Olympics but found sparse professional opportunities afterward.

Is Taurasi better than Miller was? It's impossible to say without imagining for Miller an entire professional career that she never had. Ditto for Ann Meyers, Carol Blazejowski, and Nancy Lieberman—all of whom dominated the sport in the pre-WNBA era—and Lynette Woodard, whose greatness came almost exclusively before the league was formed.

For similar reasons, it's hard to compare players of different generations using the eye test. Today, women's college basketball and the WNBA are broadcast on local and national television. Phoenix this season has two games on ESPN2 and five on NBATV, so if you want to watch Taurasi play, all you need is a cable package. If you wanted to watch Miller play in the 1980s, you would probably have needed a ticket and a flight to Los Angeles.

Rebecca Lobo, a former Naismith Player of the Year at UConn and a 2017 Hall of Fame inductee, has been around basketball for more than a quarter century but still doesn't consider herself qualified to choose a GOAT.

"I never saw Ann Meyers Drysdale play, I never saw Nancy Lieberman in her prime play," says Lobo, now an ESPN analyst. "So when these conversations or discussions come about, I can only speak to the players that I saw."

The dearth of data on early generations of women's basketball players means that to determine the GOAT, we're left with opinions from the few folks who have actually seen a majority of the candidates.

Enter Mel Greenberg, who covered women's basketball throughout his four decades at the Philadelphia Inquirer and in 2007 became the first writer elected into the Women's Basketball Hall of Fame. If anyone is qualified to answer this question, he is.

But Greenberg is more interested in telling stories than picking favorites. He offers up something of a ranking, but only with hesitation.

"Cheryl [Miller], off of what we she did, might be right behind Diana. I might be picking between those two," Greenberg said. "And Lieberman might be there. Because they were all intangible-type players."

Still, Greenberg says, he loves Lisa Leslie and Tamika Catchings—both of whom starred in the WNBA—and is hesitant to fully concede that Taurasi has passed them on the list of all-time greats.

And that brings us to a question that's a bit easier to answer: Is Taurasi the best player in the 21-year history of the WNBA?

Now that she has eclipsed Thompson's record (in 119 fewer games, no less), Taurasi certainly belongs at the front of that discussion. Thompson, now an assistant coach at the University of Texas, declined through a spokesperson to be interviewed for this article, but in a statement called Taurasi "one of the best players to ever play the game and definitely one of my favorites."

Taurasi's case as the WNBA's GOAT goes much deeper than her new scoring record. She currently ranks third all-time in points per game (19.9), trailing two players who have each played less than a third as many career games: current Washington Mystics wing Elena Delle Donne, and the retired Cynthia Cooper, who began her WNBA career at age 34 and still won four titles and two MVP awards.

Taurasi recently became the league's all-time leader in three-point field goals, and her percentage from long range ranks 13th all-time, behind many players who received much less defensive attention. For good measure, she's fifth in WNBA history in assists and 14th in assists per game.

Taurasi's gaudy totals aren't only a product of opportunities created by the Mercury's fast-paced offense. Here are the career effective field goal percentage (as of Sunday afternoon) marks for the WNBA's top 20 all-time scorers:

Alex Putterman for VICE Sports

Taurasi ranks second, ahead of fellow greats like Leslie, Catchings, Sheryl Swoopes and Lauren Jackson. She trails only Becky Hammon, an underrated point guard who can't match Taurasi in accolades or titles.

By true-shooting percentage, Taurasi also ranks just behind Hammon but ahead of all other top all-time scorers, according to Basketball-Reference. By offensive rating, which attempts to encapsulate a player's full offensive value, she trails Jackson, plus a handful of other greats with far fewer games played, but ranks ahead of Leslie, Catchings, and Swoopes.

Other advanced statistical measurements aren't quite as favorable. By player efficiency rating, Taurasi is looking up at Jackson, Catchings, and Leslie, among others. And according to win shares—which, unlike the other advanced stats we've mentioned, is cumulative—she ranks well behind Catchings and Jackson.

Of course, all these measures have their strengths and weaknesses, and none can be taken as anything close to gospel. Win shares also will tell you that Karl Malone was better than Michael Jordan and that Reggie Miller was better than Kobe Bryant, and almost no one would make either claim. Even with advanced stats, these conversations always resist easy answers.

What's clear is that the numbers place Taurasi right up there with anyone to ever play in the WNBA. To Voepel, her status as the league's greatest winner and one of its most beloved teammates pushes her ahead of the pack.

"If the question is greatest WNBA player of all-time, right now, I think you'd have to say it is Diana Taurasi," Voepel says. "She's a great player who is also a great teammate."

Lobo agrees, saying Taurasi is already the best player of recent vintage and will only extend her lead in the coming years—at least until Maya Moore or Candace Parker begin to catch up.

"Ultimately it's about championships, it's about making your teammates better, it's about being a great leader, a great teammate, and she checks the boxes on all of those," Lobo says. "I don't know that anyone has had the impact—college, pro, overseas, Olympics—that she's had."

So Taurasi is probably the best player of the WNBA era, a period that, due to the aftershocks of Title IX, probably features the deepest talent pool in women's basketball history. Though the broader GOAT question is ultimately unanswerable, the WNBA's all-time leading scorer seems like as good a choice as any.

"If anyone was to say to me, 'I think Diana Taurasi is the greatest player of all-time,'" Voepel says, "I would not argue with that."

Is Diana Taurasi the Greatest Women's Basketball Player of All Time? published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

[conniecockrell]

The Drink: Friday Flash Fiction Post

Posted on April 7, 2017 from www.conniesrandomthoughts.com

I originally wrote this story at the start of February, 2014! I know, right? I searched the blog and cannot find where I posted it, if I did. Anyway, I was searching for the recipe I have in the story, a specialty bar drink that I created for a Chuck Wendig prompt. So I thought it would be cool that I make the drink an actual recipe card to hand out at my Phoenix ComiCon appearance in May. www.PhoenixComiCon.com. I’m not sure the title fits. What do you think? What would be a better title?

The Drink

Paula Vance held up the heavily embroidered scarf with intricate metallic blue and silver swirls and stars. “Look at this, Rob! I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He stepped to his wife. “Beautiful.”

The stall keeper sensed a sale to the tourists. “I know the artist. She does fantastic work but as you can imagine, it takes a long time to hand embroider. I don’t get many like that.”

“We’re on our 10th anniversary trip,” Paula shared with the stall keeper. “We heard about the Gulliver Station BioDome and since it was on the way to Pica, we decided to stop here. I’m glad we did.” She tried on the scarf and looked at herself in the mirror standing on the counter. “I have to have it.”

Rob laughed. “Why not? It’s our anniversary after all.” He handed the stall keeper his ID.

“Shall I wrap it for you, Miss?”

Paula took a couple of steps backward to get a different perspective in the mirror. “No, I think…”

She shrieked as she was struck by a speeding methane breather transport pod. Paula slid over the bubble protecting the alien and rolled off of the back onto the floor.

“Paula!” Rob shouted.

The pod stopped. The stall keeper called Station Security. Passersby gathered around the fallen woman and the transport. In a few minutes, Station Security Officer, Helene Guzman, arrived on the scene.

“Are you alright, Ma’am?” Officer Guzman took a swift glance at the transport. There was no smell of methane so the bubble wasn’t cracked. The exterior speaker hissed and sputtered. She read the display.

“Fright. Female. Broken!”

Guzman sighed. She hated dealing with the V’Heeme. It was hard to figure out what their messages meant. Was it scared and broken or was it asking about the woman?

Rob helped his wife to her feet. “I think she’s fine.” He dusted off her dress.

“Stay right there, the medics are coming.” Guzman turned to the transport’s speaker. “May I ask your name, Honored V’Heeme?”

The screen printed, “Zmugn.”

“Honored Zmugn, are you injured?” She tapped her pocket pad with the V’Heeme’s name and the number of the transport pod. The message went straight to Security.

“No. Human?”

“I will inquire, Honored Zmugn.” She turned to the couple. “May I ask your names?”

Paula straightened the scarf, then her hair. “I’m Paula Vance, this is my husband Ron. We were just buying this scarf when the pod hit me.” She straightened her dress. “I never expected to see a Methane breather.” They peered into the bubble.

“So you didn’t see the pod travelling along the market aisle?”

Paula glanced around her, the crowd, smaller now that there was no apparent injury, hung onto every word. “Well, I stepped back a bit, to see the scarf in the mirror.”

“That’s true, Officer,” the stall keeper called out. “She was just admirin’ the scarf.”

Guzman nodded. This was an accident but with the V’Heeme involved it could turn ugly. “I can do a couple of things here. I can take both of you and the V’Heeme to the office where everyone can file complaints.

“Or, I can call it no harm, no foul, since no one is injured and you can go about your business.”

“Oh, no,” Ron said in a hurry. “We were just about to go to dinner.”

Guzman nodded. “Let me ask the V’Heeme.”

“Honored Zmugn, do you wish to go about your business or come to Station Security to file a complaint?”

The speaker hissed and crackled and the screen finally printed, “No. Business now.”

“Thank you for your courtesy, Honored Zmugn.” Guzman tapped the answer into her pad. She turned to the couple.

“Your lucky day, the V’Heeme is eager to get on about his business, too.”

They watched the pod speed away. “It goes kind of fast, doesn’t it?” Rob said as he watched it take the corner.

Guzman held out her pad. “Could you sign at the bottom of the screen, please? To confirm you are not filing a complaint.”

Paula reached out and pressed her thumb to the screen.  When the medics arrived, Officer Guzman stayed so she could complete her report. It only took a moment for them to do a scan and pronounce Paula fit. She thumb-printed her release on their pad.

“Have a good evening.” Guzman tucked her pad into her pocket.

“Wait,” Rob said. “Can you recommend a good place to eat? Some place you would go to have dinner?”

Guzman stopped. “Are you looking for fancy or for good local food?”

“We can get fancy food on the ship. Local food,” Rob said.

“Go to the Eastenders on this Level. Best Irish stew on the station.”

They thanked her and wound their way through the market to the maglev. It took them to the other end of the market. The Eastender’s was in full swing but they found seats at the bar. The stew and fresh bread was delivered promptly and they ate with gusto. “We should have an anniversary drink,” Paula said.

“Good idea,” Rob said. “Jake,” he called to the bartender. “Do you have a signature drink for the Eastenders?”

Jake, a long time bartender on the station, scratched his head. “No. None on Gulliver Station, as far as I know.”

“Good.” Rob rubbed his hands together. “Is there a particular favorite drink?”

Jake grinned. “That would be whisky. It’s made right here.”

The two men put their heads together. In a few minutes, the three of them had a squat glass filled with ice cubes and a light chocolate colored drink. “Cheers,” Rob toasted. They each tasted.

“What’s in it?” Paula asked.

“One and a half shots of whisky, half a shot of chocolate liquor, half a shot of Irish cream whisky, and a shot of coffee. We’ve decided to call it The Gulliver.”

“It tastes like dessert!” She sipped again. “Thank you, Jake.” She raised her glass. “To Gulliver Station.”

“To Gulliver Station,” they toasted.

The End

1000 Words

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